Beneath the Darkness
by Chongy
Summary: Hermione Granger is caught. Draco Malfoy fails as a son and as a servant to Voldemort. And so they are both imprisoned deep beneath Malfoy Manor, with only each other and their thoughts for company.
1. Chapter 1

_***Author's note:** Hello Readers! Thank you for showing an interest in my story by reading this first little note thingamajig. Please leave a review, if you'd be so kind :) This is my first FanFiction, so please be gentle! Anyway, read on! I hope you enjoy my story :D **  
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**Disclaimer: **_I really wished I owned Harry Potter, I'd give up my cellphone, my pencil case with all my cool new pens for the new school year, I'd give them my boyfriend, one of my six bunny rabbits, my dirty laundry and my choir contract. :l _

_ANYWAY, my point is that I don't own Harry Potter or anything from it, only my plot and any new characters I may introduce (I seriously doubt that I'll be introducing new characters though). The Harry Potterverse belongs to J.K. Rowling and her alone. __  
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_I also don't own the poem I'm taking quotes from (The Voice by Thomas Hardy). It is definitely his poem, not mine. I would've noticed if I was living in the 1910's._

_"Woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me,_

_Saying that now you are not as you were."_

_~The Voice, Thomas Hardy_

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_Chapter 1:_ _Stories_

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Honey met the storm.

"So Granger," the storm said casually, as if being trapped and imprisoned in a very small space with his enemy was of no concern. "Let's hear your side of things. What's your sob story?"

"Huh." The storm calmed, became thoughtful and still as he shrugged carelessly- _how could he, considering their situation?!_- sighing. "Any more stories, Granger? I'm bored." He snickered, the storm turning wicked once more.

"Sod off, Malfoy." Hermione said venomously, wishing she could move away from him. The space they shared was no bigger than the average garden shed; there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. She was lucky that it was at least lit, and that she was on one side in the corner, her knees hugged to her chest. She was lucky there was a little bathroom behind the door that had a toilet and shower, even if it was a little dirty. _Only the best for their prisoners_, she thought. She was lucky that Malfoy was lounging in the corner diagonally opposite to hers, and that his mind seemed to be elsewhere after her less than positive dismissal. She watched him for a bit, the swirl of emotions in his eyes; he must've forgotten about Hermione, too preoccupied with his thoughts.

Until he looked around and saw her staring. He smirked. "See something you like, M-Granger?" He winked suggestively and waggled his pale eyebrows in a 'come hither' kind of fashion.

Hermione gagged. "I can see at least one thing I'd _like..._ to strangle." She said evenly, arching an eyebrow at his slip-up. He'd refrained from calling her a Mudblood ever since-

"Ooh, kinky. I like that in a girl."

Hermione, exasperated, let out a frustrated puff of air and returned to staring at her knees, reviewing how she and Malfoy had ended up in this position.

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There were mere minutes left.

"Harry, Ron, come here!"

"Hermi-! Oww, what-?"

"What did you do to Harr-?"

Ron was silenced as Hermione's lips were brought down over his. "Please be careful." She said, a sad look on her face.

"Hermione?"

"The Snatchers are coming, you two Apparate and get out of here. I'll... I'll distract them."

"No, 'Mione, you ca-!"

"There's no time to argue! Leave! Now!"

"Come out with your hands up." Said a greasy voice. Hermione could hear the long, yellow-toothed smile behind the words; _Fenrir Greyback._

"I love you, 'Mione."

For some reason, Hermione couldn't reply, so she choked out "just go!" and waved her hands.

They got the message. A loud _crack_ later, and Hermione was alone. She carefully changed her hair to a straight golden blonde colour, and her eyes a bright green. _Like Harry's eyes,_ she thought ruefully. She stuffed her wand into her beaded bag, and the bag into her sock. _Just in case_. Then she stepped outside, her hands held up high in surrender.

"Is this the Granger girl? The Mudblood from school you used to always complain about?!" Lucius Malfoy sounded desperate, like he was clawing at a rubber duck to keep him afloat in a tossing and heaving sea. When Draco didn't reply, Lucius became frustrated, slapping his face so hard that the sound echoed around the Drawing Room. Draco flinched, but dared not touch the burning red handprint on his cheek.

"I...I can't be sure..." He said unsteadily, his eyes darting to Hermione's and then quickly away. "I-"

"Come now, Draco, surely you can see?"

"I-she... looks different." He was afraid, desperately afraid of his father and of punishment. He would've known that face anywhere, straight blonde hair or not. How could he forget? She was-

"But is it _her_?!" Lucius lost his patience, and drew his wand. "_Crucio_!" He cried, directing his wand not at Hermione, but at Draco.

He curled into a ball and convulsed on the floor, making no sound, even as Lucius intensified the torture. All the muscles in his body seized up, it felt like white-hot knives were being forced under his fingernails, like blunt scissors were being stabbed into his eyes, like he was encased in a layer of fire. His organs were being ripped apart, acid was being poured onto his maimed flesh. And still he made not a sound.

Lucius released him from the curse, and Draco lay on the floor for a few seconds more, before quickly staggering to his feet, breathing heavily and masking the agonized expression on his face; it now only showed a blank mask of indifference. But his eyes were burning, livid, steely gray, hardening into an icy glare.

"So?" Said Lucius, impatiently tapping his foot. "Yes or no? You're not trying to save her, are you?"

"N-no, Father." Draco said, his stammer the only sign that he was severely shaken by the torturing. He looked at Granger again. "It's... it's not the Mudblood."

He wasn't sure why he'd protected Granger. _I was a fool, _he thought to himself later, pacing the length of his room at the Manor, his cloak swishing in his wake. _I should've told them! If they found out I lied... well, she did look different._ A thought suddenly struck him. _Why did I lie in the first place? Usually I would've given her in, I wouldn't have cared..._

"So what changed this time?" He said absently, sitting at his desk and staring out of the window, watching the rain create clear streaks on the glass. Through the pouring rain, lightning crackled and sent out glaring flashes of light across the destroyed Manor gardens. He winced slightly as he stretched his legs out; all his muscles were still cramping from the _Cruciatus_ curse before, and his legs were protesting. _Protesting..._ Maybe he was rebelling against his father, against his stupid beliefs. Maybe he should. Draco felt a swell of indignation and hatred that was almost immediately quelled with fear and anguish. That would mean he was rebelling against the Dark Lord, and he'd be killed on sight if any Death Eaters saw him. That would mean he'd be a Wanted man. That would mean he'd be on Saint Potter's side. With the Granger, the Mudblood. And the filthy and poor blood-traitor Weaselbee.

"Ugh." He said in distaste, slumping forwards and resting his head against his desk, eyes facing the door.

Then he heard a scream which chilled his blood.

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***_Author's Note_**_** (again): **How did you guys find that? Tell me in a review! Thanks guys :)_

_~ Chongy_


	2. Chapter 2

**_Author's note:_**_ Hello again :) Thank you for your review, RuneDragon! I was REALLY excited last night because I got my Cambridge English results! I was so happy with my result that I decided I would post up a chapter earlier than I was originally planning for you guys. Also, there was weird stuff going on the last chapter I posted up- the spaces between the different scenes and stuff were a bit weird- okay I lied- they weren't there **at all**, which was SUPER ANNOYING AND FRUSTRATING. It would've been annoying and confusing to read too, so like I said, I'll try sorting it out this time :) Enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer:**__ No, I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I would make sure that somewhere, sometime, Dudley realised he was a squib. Now _that_ would be funny. Or just very weird... *shrug*_

_I don't own this poem either, jus' sayin'. Matthew Arnold does._

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_"__Begin, and cease, and then again begin,_

_With tremulous cadence slow, and **bring**_

_**The eternal note of sadness in**."_

_~Dover Beach, Matthew Arnold_

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Chapter 2: _Pain__  
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Draco bolted for his door, twisting the handle unnecessarily hard and slamming it open, rushing down the stairs two at a time. Another scream, this one long and drawn out, and Draco whipped his head around to the source of the sound. _The dungeons...? But..._ He turned on his heel and started jogging in the opposite direction, passing his mother. She put a hand on his retreating shoulder.

"Draco?" She said softly, turning him around and peering up at his face. "Draco, are you okay?"

He put his hand over hers on his shoulder, letting a small and gentle smile emerge on his face; only his mother saw his real self, his 'soft' side. "I'm fine Mother, just wondering where the screaming is coming from and what's going on."

She nodded, looking very distressed and distant all of a sudden. "Oh. Be very careful around Lucius." She tilted her head to the side a little. "I love you Draco. Don't ever forget it."

Another scream pierced their moment.

"I love you too, Mother."

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Draco was shaking, his wand trembling and nearly slipping out of his sweaty palm.

"Do it Draco." Ordered Lucius, an arrogant smirk on his face. "Torture the girl, make her suffer! She doesn't deserve to live, let alone be in our house, if she doesn't serve the Dark Lord! She-"

Draco tuned him out, instead focussing on Granger, who was on the floor, whimpering, curled into the fetal position. His father had tortured her again and again, and Draco didn't want to hurt her. He'd never hurt anything, never tortured or killed. And he wasn't going to start now. "Father," He said, glancing over at Lucius. "I can, uh, teach her a better lesson upstairs in my room." He smirked appropriately, but felt like heaving inside.

Lucius' smile was sickly. "Of course."

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"Malfoy! Malfoy what are you doing?!"

"Shut up, Mudblood." Malfoy said, rolling his eyes and dumping Hermione unceremoniously on his bed. She whimpered, and he looked at her. Hermione's eyes were full of fear and anxiety, though she tried to mask it with anger. Unfortunately, Slytherins were good at acting and even better at picking out lies. He listened carefully, ducking his head out of the door to make sure there was no-one outside his room, then said to her in a whisper so quiet she thought she'd misheard him, "I'm not going to hurt you, Granger."

He didn't know why he'd said it. Why would _he_ want to comfort _her_? She meant nothing to him, _nothing._

Hermione scoffed. "How can I trust _you_?" She said acidly. "You're a Death Eater, you're one of _them_."

She saw Malfoy's eyes widen in shock and hurt, then the emotion was gone, instantly masked by a sneering smirk. "So I am." He said nonchalantly, starting to put clothes and things in a bag, his thoughts turned suddenly to the much resented Dark Mark that burned on his left forearm.

_Wait... what?_ _First he was _hurt_ because I called him a Death Eater, and now he's packing...what is he... no..._

"Your hair and eyes are returning to normal." Malfoy said casually, doing the bag up with a flick of his wrist and slinging it onto his back. "A pity, I liked it when your hair didn't look like a bloody bird's nest."

Now it was Hermione's turn to look upset. "For your inf-"

"We should go in a few hours." Interrupted Malfoy quietly, checking the clock on his wall. "When everyone's asleep."

"W...what...?" Hermione was taken aback. "What do mean 'go'?"

"Go, leave, depart, set off, exit-" He rattled off boredly, raising an eyebrow. "Granger, I thought you were a walking dictionary-"

"Yes I know what 'go' means," She said irritably. "but-"

"We're leaving this hellhole." Said Malfoy. "I am so sick of..." His eyes darted to Hermione and then back at his bag. A seed of curiosity settled in Hermione. "I- why am I even trying to explain this to _you_ of all people? You're a Mudblood." He wondered aloud. _Back to his old self again_, she sighed inwardly. There were flashes of a different Malfoy, but they were so rare... and then he was always a massive git afterwards. But she didn't care about that now; the prospect of escaping was too great.

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"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Lucius Malfoy screamed from the Manor steps. "DRACO! Why are you helping- IT _IS_ THE GRANGER GIRL! YOU LIED TO ME! You'll pay for this!"

Thunder roared it's approval as rain cascaded down, filling both Hermione and Draco with a numbing cold that had nothing to do with temperature. Lightning lit the sky again, and suddenly Lucius was up close and personal, his face livid and wild with fury and loathing.

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"Draco, you are truly a traitorous piece of filth, I am disgusted to call you my son. You're almost as bad as this Mudblood here."

Draco felt fear, hurt and panic well up in his chest. "Father, I-"

"Draco, shut-"

"Please Father, don't-" He pleaded, panic filling him as he fumbled for something else to say. "Father-"

"You cannot tell me what I can and can't d-"

"Please Father! Please! Please don't do this to me-"

"Don't you _dare _tell me what to do, you insufferable brat! I am disowning you! You have failed not only me, but the Dark Lord too! He is merciful, but I-" He sneered. "-I am not. You are going where nobody will ever find you. And you'll be stuck with the Granger girl too."

Draco felt grief tear at his heart, and he let out a single, tortured sound before reigning himself in. "Father..." He said, his voice cracking with grief. "Please..."

"That is my final word. And I am no longer your father." At those words, Draco felt his chest throb painfully. His father was his role model, or at least had been for his whole life. He was everything to Draco, even if Lucius did torture him with his words and beatings. Draco was like a puppy that is treated cruelly by its owner, but always returns for more, hoping that next time will be different. But it never was. The only time it would be different is the time the owner kills the dog, destroys it.

Lucius beat Draco. First, the Cruciatus curse, very strong and powerful, streaming from Lucius' wand. So many, that by the end Draco was lying on the ground in a pool of his own vomit, nearly scratching the skin from his face in complete and utter agony. And then Lucius began to physically beat him.

A punch to the face. An exceptionally hard kick to the ribs, and Draco felt (and heard) a sickening snap that had him convulsing once more in agony. More kicks, in his back and a stamp on each kneecap. Finally, Lucius stood on Draco's right hand, twisting his foot like a Muggle would stamp out a cigarette on the street. A bone broke. Draco hissed in pain, the first time he'd made real noise while he was being beaten.

"Get up." Said Lucius venomously, pulling Draco up by his shirt collar. "You're almost worse than that filthy Mudblood." He pointed to Hermione, who'd been standing and watching the entire ordeal, tears in her eyes and hands over her mouth, not making a sound. Draco struggled to meet her eyes, flitting in and out of consciousness, and his wand slipped from his sweaty hand, clattering to the floor. Lucius didn't seem to notice, as his hate-filled eyes were solely for his broken and bloody disowned son. Hermione thought quickly, then sunk to the floor slowly in what appeared to be shock. Really, she was just picking up Malfoy's wand from the floor. _Just in case._

And so down they travelled, Lucius none-too-carefully dragging an unconscious Draco behind him, his wand pointed constantly at Hermione's back. "Faster, you filth." He said disdainfully, prodding her in the back. She directed a look of pure loathing at him before speeding up her steps.

The corridors were a labyrinth; so many passages lead in and out, and they took so many twists and turns, Hermione could no long tell where they were or how they'd gotten there. Suddenly Lucius shoved Hermione to the side at the end of a passage while he opened the door. "In." He growled at Hermione, who quickly complied and stepped inside, feeling rather claustrophobic. Lucius threw Draco and without another word shut the door and locked it.

After Lucius had locked it, the door seemed to melt into the wall, so it looked like they were buried alive, except for the small worn door to her left. Hermione shivered and walked over to Draco, whose chest was only just rising and falling with his erratic breathing. She pulled her wand from the bag she had concealed in her sock- _how stupid were they?_ She thought smugly- and gazed down with a pitying expression. He'd tried to help her and now... now he was-

His lids fluttered, and suddenly he tensed and let out an agonized moan. Hermione knew what she had to do.

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_**Author's note:**__ This was originally going to be slightly longer, but I thought it was a good place to end it. :) I had written chapters three and four already, but the file on my computer corrupted, and even though I have parents in the IT industry, neither of them could save my writing D': This saddens me greatly, mostly because it'll take a while for me to figure out what I had written. __Anyway, let me know what you think of this chapter. I was intending to make the romance rather slow, but I'm an impatient person so... yeah. I don't think there'll be any in the next chapter though. __Also, how are the chapter lengths so far? (I know there's only 2 chapters, but still.) Too long or too short? Or just right? Thanks guys :)_

_~Chongy_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Note: **Hello! I may or may not have been distracted by my new fountain pen. Anyway, here is chapter three!_

_**Disclaimer: **No, I don't own Harry Potter. But I own loads of copies (like seriously loads) of the series, so yeah. Close enough. ;D  
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"Draco?" No response. His face was deathly pale, a sick greyish colour. She prodded his colourless cheek with her wand, and he hissed in agony, coughing slightly. Blood bubbled on his lips and Hermione recoiled. "This looks bad."

She heard a sound from him and watched him closely. "N...no... kid... kidding, G... Granger." She rolled her eyes, mostly out of relief that he was actually still conscious. "Can... you... fix... me?"

He struggled to get more words out, but she shushed him. "I'll do my best."

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"_Episkey_!" Hermione said quietly, aiming her wand at the last broken bone, which was on his hand. It set into place at once with a clicking sound that made Hermione's flesh crawl. Draco inhaled sharply; even though it was healing him, it still hurt. She gave his hand a sympathetic squeeze. "This one is supposed to ease the pain a little, Draco. And I think reduce bruises, but I haven't really done it before... _Curatio_!" She said finally. It was a spell she'd learnt while reading an old book on healing, and she'd practiced it whenever she'd accidentally hurt herself or if Harry or Ron had-

Draco's eyes fluttered open, and Hermione's thoughts trailed off as he watched her silently for a full minute.

"A-are you-"

"Thank you, Hermione." And then his eyelids fell back over his eyes like a curtain over a stage, and he passed out.

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Hermione watched him for a long time, checking every now and then that he was actually breathing as he was so still. She studied his features: the pale blonde hair that was dyed a sick red from his blood in some parts; his ivory skin; the sharp and refined aristocratic features; his pale golden eyebrows and how they were creased slightly, why she did not know; and his lips, pale pink and thin, down-turned at the corners. Suddenly, an impulse to reach out and trace her finger along his face gripped Hermione, and she had to struggle to beat it down. After all, he was still her enemy- _or is he?_- and also, she wouldn't like to wake up to find somebody she didn't like touching her face.

A thought popped into her head, and she remembered the small door. "It must be a bathroom or something." She mumbled to herself, standing up, her wand rolling unnoticed off her lap as she walked over to the door. Opening it, she smiled in relief as she saw it was a basic bathroom. A mouldy shower stood in the far left corner, and on the other side of the small space was a dirty-looking toilet and a yellowing basin. The mirror was barely usable; cracked and spotted with age, only a small section down the bottom was reflecting anything.

_A basin, a toilet, and a shower. Better than nothing,_ Hermione decided. Then she heard Draco speak.

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Draco awoke suddenly, panting, eyes wild. He couldn't remember what had happened. He was in a dimly lit room, its walls made cold and bare stone. This was not his room. He started to scrabble backwards in panic, but stopped as pain hit him like a tsunami. He gritted his teeth and tried to ignore it, though this was unsuccessful. He managed to reach the corner of the room and press his back into the corner, his eyes darting around quickly, coming to rest on a wand lying next to him. Draco reached down and picked it up, pulling his knees to his chest and wincing as a wave of agony so intense it made him accidentally bite through his lip washed over him. It wasn't his wand, but it'd have to do. He suddenly noticed the door that was slightly ajar right in front of him. He aimed the wand at the it, his hand trembling with the effort; his limbs were lethargic and slow, it was painful to move them and they wouldn't keep up with his racing mind.

"Hello?" He called out uncertainly, tilting his head to the side to try and see through the door and wincing again. "Is anyone there?" His eyes widened in alarm as Hermione Granger stepped out of the bathroom casually, then froze as she saw her own wand was pointed at her. "Granger? What are you doing here? What are _we_ doing here?"

One look at her face said it all. "We didn't escape, did we Granger?" She shook her head, eyes still on her wand. "Goddamn." He whispered. "What the hell happened to me? I feel like a fucking Hippogriff sat on me."

"Draco, can you put down the wand please?"

"Wha- oh. Yeah." He felt in his pocket for his wand, but it wasn't there. "Granger, do you know where-" Guilt stole across Hermione's face. "Give it to me."

"No."

"Fuck you Granger, why the hell not?!" He said angrily, raising her wand again.

"How can I trust you?" She said evenly, pulling his wand from her beaded bag. "We're still enemies, aren't we?"

Draco frowned inwardly. "Sure, but I have your wand, and you have mine-"_  
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"_Accio_! And now I have both wands-"

Draco looked incensed, his eyes blazing as he struggled to get up. "You fucking bitch-"

"Give me one good reason why I should give it back, Malfoy!" She shot back. "And don't you dare call me-"

"I could overpower you in an instant!" He shouted, his lips curled back in a ferocious snarl, though the delicate way he moved contradicted his statement; he could no more overpower her than move without pain. She started feeling pity for him again.

"I doubt that." She said, and he sunk down to the ground in defeat. "Can you at least cast some healing charms or something? This is killing me. I'd do it myself, but..." He arched a sardonic eyebrow at her.

She frowned. "Fine. But you're not getting your wand back."

"Fuck you."

"_Scourgify_!" She cleaned up the mess of blood over his clothes and body. "You're welcome."

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Draco settled into his corner. "So, do you have any stories or not Granger?"

"For the last time, Malfoy, _no I do not have any bloody stories_!" She bellowed, throwing her hands in the air in frustration.

He just smirked and watched her closely, so she returned to her book.

After a while, his smirk faded and he said quietly, "Granger, do you have another one of those?"

She looked up, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "Another one of what?" He motioned at her book. "Oh, yes, why?"

"Can I borrow one? I'll just be here, so you won't have to chase me for late fees or anything if I don't give it back." He said, completely straight-faced, though Hermione saw the faint smile and she chuckled.

"Sure." She handed him the beaded bag. "There are heaps in there, choose one."

Draco was slightly taken aback. "Why are you being nice to me?"

Hermione sighed, looking up from her book, a faint pang of irritation at being interrupted again nudging her. "Because I figured if we're going to be stuck in here together for a long time, we may as well get used to each other's company and start at least being relatively nice to each other."

"Oh."

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"Granger..." Hermione looked up from her knees, having gotten bored of reading after six hours and meeting Draco's gray eyes. "What happened last night?"

She sighed. "Well, do you remember us escaping?"

"I remember everything up until we got outside." He said quietly, incredibly perturbed that he couldn't remember a thing past that.

"Well, lets just say you've probably had your fair share of beatings and _Crucio_s for the rest of your life." Draco felt what little colour he had in his face drain immediately, and he closed his eyes in horror.

"You saw it? Did you have to watch it? It... it was Lucius, wasn't it?"

She nodded mutely. "Draco, does-did he do that... regularly?" She asked tentatively.

Draco stiffened. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, seeing as we're stuck here, you may as well tell me. You were the one who wanted stories-"

He bristled. "That is one story I'd prefer to leave untold, thank you very fucking much. You don't know me apart from school, you don't need to and you sure as fucking hell don't want to."

"I'm sorry."

But he wasn't listening, tuning her out and going back to reading her book. It was one of their old school books, _The Spellman's_ _Syllabary_.Hermione frowned as memories of school floated to the surface. _He used to take Ancient Runes with me._

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A few hours later, a tray appeared in the middle of the room, laden with two jugs of water and a plate with a dozen sandwiches on it. Hermione pounced on it, reacting before Draco, whose limbs were still heavy and sore.

"Hey!" He said as she dragged it over to her corner of the room. "Are you planning on sharing that?"

"Maybe."

"Come _on_, Granger. I'm fucking starving. And thirsty."

"We don't know if we'll get any more-"

"_Granger_!" He barked, sending her a look of desperation mixed with exasperation. "If they wanted to kill us, they would've don it already! Trust me, I know them. Now give me-"

"Just wait a minute!" She took one jug off the tray, and then transferred six sandwiches to the tray, taking the plate off and putting it beside the jug. She slid the tray over to him. "There, happy?"

But he was already digging in ravenously.

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The light in the room suddenly flicked off.

"What...?"

"It must be night time." Said Draco thoughtfully, lying down on his side and facing away from Hermione, who was still in a sitting position on the other side of the room.

"Oh."

"Well, goodnight, Granger."

"Wait, you're just going to sleep?!"

"What the hell else can I do? It's dark, I can't see anything, and there's nothing else to do in here, seeing as you still have my wand." He added pointedly, rolling over to face Hermione, who had lit her wand with a quick _Lumos_. "_And_ it's fucking freezing. So yes, I'm just going to go to sleep."

"Oh. Okay. I might... um, stay up and read."

"Of course you will. Anyway, goodnight, Granger."

He turned back to face the wall, and Hermione considered him in the gentle glow of her wandlight. She conjured up two blankets and two pillows, throwing one set at Draco.

"Thanks." He said, putting the pillow under his head and pulling the blanket over his long body. "I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything."

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_**Author's Note:** Wooo! I finished it way earlier than I thought I would! I'd like to credit Allen's Mackintosh toffees and the Flight of the Conchords for that. ;) Anyhoo, there we are for today. (Unless I have another burst of creativity and decide to get up another post before the day's end). Also, just letting you guys know that I may not be updating every day in the near future. This is due to school starting again and my massive workload, which will be from my Physics, Bio and Chem teachers, who are kind and caring (hah). This means I won't have a lot of time to write, so I'll try and get a couple of chapters done so I can post them up every so often :) Anyway, give me a review and tell me what you like about the story so far! Thanks guys._

_~Chongy_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Note: **__Guys this is mental! Over 1000 views and 600 visitors to my stories! HOLY MOTHER SPORKING CROW! Thank you guys so much, it's seriously incredible! Special thank yous to all of the lovely readers who have left me reviews! All of you are seriously awesome though, I really appreciate you guys reading my stories :) I'm actually so stoked! Chapter 4 for Nights Like These will be up soon, hopefully in the next few hours. :) Anyway, thank you again, you're all absolutely flippin' fantastic, and enjoy this chapter :) Also, sorry for not updating yesterday, I think I wrote something about why I didn't in the author's note at the end of the chapter._

_**Disclaimer:**__ I am not in possession of Harry Potter. However, I currently have in my hot little hands SIXTEEN- NO MORE AND NO LESS- (NOT EVEN EXAGGERATING) DIFFERENT EXAM PAPERS FROM LAST YEAR. KILL ME NOW._

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The next week was spent sitting together in an amicable sort of way, taking turns at escaping the small room every so often and spending a couple of hours in the bathroom alone, using the facilities or just wanting the alone time.

The first day of the third week found them sat in silence, Hermione reading again and Draco eyeing her with apprehension and trepidation written plainly all over his face. His hands held the _Spellman's Syllabary_loosely, and he kept reading the same sentence over and over again whenever he wasn't watching Hermione.

"Granger, I'm going to have a shower." He said abruptly, slamming the book shut with a snap and standing up, still holding it in his grasp.

Hermione glanced up from her book to meet his gaze for a second, then went back to reading. "Great."

Draco hadn't known what to expect, but it wasn't the cool sarcasm she had thrown at him; it had thrown him. He didn't know why, but it unsettled him, so he tried to unsettle _her_. "Are... are you sure you don't want to join me?" He said, regaining his mental balance and smirking at her, his eyebrow arching suggestively.

She didn't even unstick her nose from the book. "Shove off, Malfoy."

"Ooh, I know what I'd like to _shove_... _into_." He said, this time smiling lasciviously. "Do you know what I mean, Granger?"

She sighed. "Yes I do, Malfoy. You're _dreadful_. You're worse than most _boys-"_ She put heavy emphasis on that last word. "your age. You don't deserve to be down here, really. Up there would have been a much worse punishment for you, having to serve Lord Voldemort and obey your father to the last dot on the i. To have him beat and torture you mercilessly. It's lewd, disgusting and foul. _You're_ lewd, disgusting and foul. You're ghastly and cruel, awful and repulsive. Just like your father. Maybe the shower will wash away some of the _disgusting_ dirty filth your harbour."

Draco just blinked like he'd been slapped. Then he narrowed his eyes and his upper lip curled menacingly. "Touché, Granger." He swirled past her, his cloak whipping her face as he dropped her book disdainfully from his fingertips; it landed spine-up with a thump and the pages crumpled as the covers slid in opposing directions. "I don't want this anymore, I might get infected from your, ah, _disease_." He hissed delicately, his eyes beckoning and dangerous, daring her to speak again. "It looks like you've decided not to play your little _let's be friends _game anymore, which is good because I could never lower myself to be friends or even think about such a thing with an ugly and unworthy Muggle such as yourself. Two can play at new games, Granger, and two _will_ play your new game. Remember that, you _revolting Mudblood_." And he slammed the door behind him.

Draco turned the shower on, and the water that cascaded from the faucet was ice-cold. His mask slipped from his face, revealing a tired, scared and hurting nineteen year old boy, missing his mother and wishing that things were different. He sat against the door for a long time, staring unseeingly at the wall of water.

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Hermione heard the shower turn on and sighed, marking her page and closing the book, putting it in her bag and pondering Draco's reuse of the term _Mudblood_. _Maybe I shouldn't have said that to Malfoy... but he was really getting on my nerves. He's always making jokes about bloody sex, and if he's not doing that he's insulting me or asking me for one of my books, or trying to help me escape..._ She sighed and stretched out on the floor, staring up at the ceiling as she pulled her wand from her pocket and cast a _Patronus_ charm, watching her otter drift aimlessly around the room.

She was so bored, and she missed and worried about Harry and Ron. _Where are you? Please! Come and save me..._

The otter floated down from the ceiling, coming to rest on her stomach. She sighed again and rolled over onto her side, the sound of falling water lulling her to sleep.

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Draco stood up and stared at his broken reflection, having completely gone off having a shower. It was tinged with green and covered in some places with a brownish black mould, and he contemplated it, frowning. He tried to smirk but found he couldn't; his whole body and mind were still shell-shocked and numb from Hermione's words. They'd hit too close to the mark, the sword digging too deep through his flesh and exposing the bone. He'd managed to hide his flinch and his pain with spiteful words, but they weren't really enough to hide his shame.

He examined the reflection carefully, the alabaster skin, the pale blonde hair, the narrowed stormy gray-blue eyes that were now hard like diamonds. His eyebrows were knitted together as his frown changed into a scowl. He looked so much like Lucius. Draco punched the mirror so it cracked even more, leaving his blood on the glass and his knuckles shredded. Powdered glass stuck to his burning knuckles, making him wince slightly. He just watched the blood ooze down the glass and he sat back down, still not making a sound. Crimson flowers blossomed onto the powdered mirror lined sink.

_What does blood matter anyway? _He thought angrily, watching it pulse from his hand._ It's all red, and Father doesn't seem to care if he spills 'pure' blood any way. _He thought about his pre-imprisonment torture session._ When did my life get so fucking crazy? Why don't I just... let it all go? Then it won't even matter anymore about pure or dirty blood... I still fucking hate her though._

He sat for another half hour before deciding he wanted a shower after all. He stood and stretched, then began undressing. He undid the clasp on his cloak, folding it almost obsessively neatly and putting it on the floor. Next, he took off his shoes and socks, placing them next to the cloak. Then he unbuttoned his shirt, not meeting the remainder mirror's red-tinged gaze as he slipped it off and folded it. Then came his pants, and then his boxers.

Draco stood before the shower, which was only about shoulder-height, and took a deep breath before immersing himself in the cold water.

It chilled him to the bone, making him want to jump right back out again, but something of Hermione's words stuck with him and, shivering violently, he began to scrub himself down, running his hands over his stomach and down his shins. Draco hummed gently as he washed, closing his eyes and forgetting that Hermione was in the room next to him. He ran his hands over his face a couple of times, noticing that his frown was still there. The cold water was numbing, and helped numb the pain from Hermione's close-cutting words as the mental numbness of shock started ebbing away. He rubbed his fingers through his silky smooth hair, then turned the tap off.

He shook the water out of his eyes and stepped out of the shower. "Granger, can you get me a towel?"

He waited. No response.

And so Draco tried again. "Oh come on, Granger, stop being so childish."

Still no response.

"I need to dry off all the disgusting filth, Granger." _Shame you can't, fucking bitch._

When there was still no response, he growled in frustration and started pulling on his clothes, still dripping wet. Pink spots from his cut hand dotted the floor as he struggled to get into his pants.

When he'd finally put all his clothing on, bar the cloak and forgoing the buttoning of his shirt, he opened the door, scowling, his mask creeping back up onto his face. "Granger, are you that fucking-" He looked down and found her curled up and dreaming on the floor. An idea struck him as he saw her wand lying next to her. He cautiously moved over to pick it up, and said very quietly, "_Accio wand!_" His dragon heartstring wand came flying out of her bag to meet his waiting hand, and when they met it glowed with green and silver sparks. He then laid her wand back where he had found it, slipping his own into his pocket, finding his old smirk back on his face as a small nugget of Slytherin pride settled in his chest.

_Best to let her think she still has the upper hand._

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Hermione awoke to find a dripping wet Draco in her face.

"Wake up already!" He was saying, teeth gritted in frustration.

"Alright, okay, I'm awake. What?"

His lip curled in disgust and he stood up and walked away from her, going back to his side of the room and leaning against the wall, his scowl darkening his features at her as his shirt fell open across his bare chest. Hermione gaped. His stomach was defined by smooth abs, and he'd rolled up the sleeves so she could see his Dark Mark burning a dark black. His hair was perfect; messy, but in a good way. A sexy way. An 'I just got out of the shower and instantly looked like this, which is to say fucking sexy' way. She gulped and wished more fervently than ever that she hadn't said those horrible things to him, that they weren't in a life-threatening situation and that they weren't enemies.

"Stop ogling, Granger, you're making me blush." He said with absolutely no trace of humour (or blushing) in his voice or face. His face was coolly impassive, yet somehow communicating to her exactly how much her words before had affected him. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. "It's just me, the filthy Death Eater who serves the Dark Lord and obeys his disgusting father." His tone was quiet and incredibly icy, and his eyes had unfrozen and were a smouldering, mercurial silver. "You're a cold-hearted, repulsive Mudblood bitch, Granger. Don't you dare fucking forget it."

She felt a shard of ice pierce her heart as she stood up, trying to ignore her realisation of just how good-looking Draco was and picked up her wand as she stalked into the bathroom. "I won't."

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**_Author's Note:_**_Gah! That took way longer than I wanted it to take, mostly because I got my NCEA exam papers back from my externals last year and had to sort out which ones I wanted to send back for remarking and which ones were close to a higher grade. This happened to be quite a few and now I'm a little stressed because it costs money to send it back for remarking. And I'm gutted because I can't send in my two Physics papers (I was three marks off getting Excellence (the top grade) on both) because they have pencil in them. I'm actually really depressed right now, and feeling a little bit like Hermione would if she failed something... Also sorry for the darkish chapter. It wasn't helped by my depression :/ Also, sorry about the 'spelling mistakes'. Anyway, please follow and favourite if you enjoyed, and leave me a review telling me your thoughts on the story, each review is really appreciated guys :) Thank you for showing an interest in my stories! :)_

_~Chongy_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's Note:** Hello! Sorry for the delay, I have a bad case of writer's block (also because school starts tomorrow and I have to get up early. The word 'early' has not been in my vocabulary for the past roughly two months, so getting up at 7am is going to be absolute TORTURE.), and so this chapter is not very long and probably not as good as it could have been. Also, thank you so much for all you lovely people who are leaving me reviews! Each one gives me a massive happy buzz every time I see a notification about it in my email inbox! So thank you, and please keep telling me your thoughts about the story :) Anyway, please enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer: **If I owned Harry Potter, it would be fantasy, not real life. (Queen reference WOOOH!)  
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Draco was sitting facing the corner, gently pulling the old stones in the wall until one of them gave way, revealing a wide and shallow hole when he wiggled the stone out. It just fit his wand and he sighed in satisfaction, delicately pushing it in and putting the stone back into place. Then he sat cross-legged, playing with a loose thread on his sleeve when the door to the cell materialized right next to him and he scrambled over to the other side, rising hastily to his feet. Lucius opened the door, and father and son glared at each other with hate-filled eyes, the stares so intense it could've caught alight.

"What do _you_ want?" Draco said, absolute loathing seeping out of every pore in his body.

"Come, Draco. The Dark Lord wishes to see you."

A cold smirk stole across Lucius' face.

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"Hello, Draco." Said a high, cold voice from underneath a hood.

Draco quaked slightly and dared not meet the Dark Lord's eyes, instead training his gaze on the ground and bowing his head, mumbling "Master."

"How has your stay been down in the dungeons?"

Draco stayed silent, not sure what to say.

"Answer me boy, do not ignore Lord Voldemort, for his mercy does not stretch to fools, and only fools would ignore the Dark Lord."

"I... it has been good...?" He said, still confused about how to say something without putting his foot in it.

"You _enjoy_ being in the company of a Mudblood? Of being in despicable conditions?" A trace of a dangerous smile lurked in his tone.

"N-no, Master."

"Good, I should hope not. Purebloods like you should have their place, and that place is below me, but above the filth. Purebloods should live in Manor's like yours, it's only fitting."

"Yes, Master, of course."

"So why did you try and escape, then?"

Draco's mouth went dry. "I-"

"Wouldn't it be preferable to stay here, at the Manor? Unless you wanted to defy Lord Voldemort? Or unless you know valuable information about the Order...?" Draco's gaze flicked up to the Dark Lord's face, and saw the cruel twist of his mouth and narrowed red slits for eyes.

Draco went completely still, eyes wide. He was a very skilled Occlumens by his mother's teachings, but he wouldn't last a second against the Dark Lord. "I don't know anything, Master, I swear it-"

"_Crucio_."

Draco sank to the ground as knives stabbed his back, and spiders crawled all over his face. He clawed at his skin; it felt itchy and like it was on fire simultaneously, or like someone was scraping the skin away with a cheese grater. jagged pieces of white hot metal were branding his insides, tearing and ripping the flesh. He could hear someone crying. _Maybe it's me... _It seemed to go on for hours and hours, and he was biting his lip so hard that blood was pouring from it now; his teeth had torn the skin. This was so much worse than his father's tortures, and as the pain reached an unbearable peak, Draco had to scream in agony, tears streaming involuntarily from his eyes and bile rising into his mouth.

And then it stopped. He rested face-down on the cold tiles, cheek pressed to the ground. He tried to push himself off the ground, but his arms were too shaky, and he had to push his legs up to so he was on all-fours. Then he promptly threw up.

"I-I know n-nothing, Master."

"Are you sure?"

"Y-yes."

"Another torturing session will make you certain. _Crucio._"

And it started again, but this time Draco had the merciful release of passing out.

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He awoke to someone sobbing over him. "Draco? Draco wake up! Draco!" Tears rained down upon him, and a small hand with slender fingers gripped his shoulder, the other holding his face and stroking his cheek with a loving thumb.

Draco struggled to open his eyes, and found himself on his bed in Narcissa's arms. "M...Mother?" He rasped out, his throat sore and scratchy.

She stopped sobbing. "Draco? Draco darling are you-"

"Okay? Far from it, Mother."

She smiled weakly. "I know, it was a silly question. I've just been _so worried_! I haven't seen you for weeks Draco, and you're my precious one and only son! What did Lucius do to you, darling? You're my baby boy, I was devastated when you disappeared!"

"You know what he did to me Mother." Draco said darkly. "You know he beats me and tortures me. Me, his only son. I don't understand-"

"He's just as scared as us, darling."

"I doubt it, Mother."

She considered Draco for a moment, then stood up, walking out of his door and casting glances either side of her. Then she came back in, shutting the door quietly and locking it, placing an imperturbable charm on the door. "Where has he been keeping you?"

"In the dungeons."

"But I searched-"

"Not those ones, the ones that used to be used for long term prisoners."

Narcissa was horrified. "Those are only as big as your bathroom, Draco!"

"You're telling me! And I share that space with another person."

She smiled at that. "Hermione is good, Draco. You tried to escape with her before, right? Do it again. You must trust her, and the Order of the Phoenix. Escape with Hermione."

Draco was so taken aback by this he actually laughed, thinking she was joking. "Good one, Mother."

She frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

Now it was Draco's turn to be confused. "You weren't joking?"

"Not at all! I'm deadly serious, Draco. You have to get out of there. Do you have your wand?"

"Yes but-"

"I've been working with the Order for a while now-"

"_What_?! _Mother_?! You're not serious-"

"I assure you I am. Please Draco, I want you to be safe."

Draco looked at her in alarm. "You're coming with me."

"I can't."

"But-"

"I can't come with you, Draco."

He stared at her worriedly, then sighed. "It would raise suspicion, and you don't want your darling husband to be killed." He said in a droll tone.

"Even if he is evil, I still love him. Stress, worry and fear changes people, Draco, for better or worse. I just hope that it changes you for the better."

Draco watched her, his face thoughtful but his eyes determined. "How do we get out of here?"

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Hermione stepped out of the bathroom to find herself alone. "Draco?" She called out to the empty room. "Draco where are you?"

She walked around the whole room, and he just wasn't there. Hermione suddenly felt very cold and very claustrophobic in the small dark room without him. It somehow felt smaller and scarier without his presence. No matter how annoying he was, it was comforting having him there. It kept her sanity in check, but also reminded her of reality and their situation. He was also good eye candy.

For some strange reason, Hermione Granger actually _missed_ Draco Malfoy. _It's what you get for spending a month locked in a tiny room with him_, she thought darkly. But he wasn't really all that bad. Rather frosty after her yell at him, but the more weeks they spent together, the better he seemed to get. Once you stripped down the layers of prejudice, he wasn't so bad. Guarded, but not bad. He was a good person. He just didn't know it yet. Hermione walked around the room once more then sat in 'his' corner of the room, curling her knees up to her chest and biting her lip.

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"In." Barked Lucius, pushing Draco and slamming the cell door shut again. Draco stumbled on his shaky legs and fell over, as they were still weak and sore from the torturing from the Dark Lord. He crumpled unceremoniously to the floor, his hands jarring as they broke his fall and his head pounding. Draco sat up, swearing under his breath and then sighing. He did miss his mother dearly, and it made his heart ache to know that he couldn't protect her from Lucius because he was trapped down here.

Suddenly a big and bushy brown _something_ came hurtling towards him and knocked him over again. Small arms wrapped around his shoulders and he lay still on the floor, bewildered. Then he realized the bushy brown something was speaking.

"...I'm so sorry for all the horrid things I said about you before, I didn't really mean them, you're nothing like your father, I was just angry, and bored, and I-"

"Granger, _shut up_. You're giving me a worse headache than the one I already have." He shut his eyes tightly then opened them again, pushing her away so he could look at her face. There were tear tracks down her cheeks. "Granger," He said incredulously, wiping one away with his forefinger and raising his eyebrows. "are you _crying_? All because I was gone for a few minutes?"

"Draco, you were away for a week."

He paused. "...I was?"

"Yes! So of course I was worried!"

"You... were worried... about me?"

Mercury held clear honey in a piercing gaze.

"I-yes. I was."

Draco's eyebrows came together in a frown. "Granger, you really are strange. First you insult me, then you're ogling my body, and then you cry when I'm away for a week. Anyone would think you like me."

"And what if I did?"

He blinked. "I don't know how I'd feel about that." He said quietly, remembering his mother's words. Hermione's arms dropped from his shoulders.

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_**Author's Note: **Blargh, it wasn't that good, I know. Anyway, I probably won't post up another chapter for this today, because Boyfriend is coming over and I think we're going out or something. In any case, there will probably be at least one NLT chapter. :) Leave a review if you liked it and favourite and/or follow me for more exciting (uuhhhh hopefully) chapters! :D_

_~Chongy_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's Note: **Helloooo readers! Finally finally finally! I have this chapter written! And it's _nearly_ how I wanted it to be. This is so far from perfect its not even funny, but it's close enough, and I don't have any time to make it better because school. BLAH. Anyway, in honour of this special moment, I'll write another chapter for Nights Like These, and possibly post up a one-shot (it might also end up being another full story (***with chapters and everything woooaaaahhh***)) for you guys with an apology and a complimentary piece of cake. Anyway, enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer: **Yes yes, we know that J.K. owns the rights and everything.  
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Hermione was shoved back into the cell, shaking and a complete wreck. Tears were spilling down her cheeks, and blood caked her clothes and agonized face. Draco was instantly at her side.

"Granger? Granger what's wrong? What happened? What did they do to you?"

She just shook her head mutely, sobs still escaping her. "They- they..."

He watched her for a few minutes, frowning. _I can't comfort her, how strange would that be? I'm her enemy... aren't I...? _He went against his better judgement, and gathered her in his arms, rubbing her back soothingly. No matter how much he may have hated her at school, he couldn't stand seeing someone in such pain, and for some reason, ever since she had hugged him that last time he'd been called out, he had had a soft spot for her, and seeing her crying was the final straw on the camel's heavily burdened back. "Shh, Granger. It'll be okay."

"N-no, Draco. No it w-won't be."

"Why not?" He said in a placating tone, still rubbing her back and holding her close. Draco realised to only mild shock, rather than the horror of a few weeks ago, that he actually liked being this close to her; for some strange reason it made him feel lighter, brighter, happier than he had been for years. He filed this away for careful analysis later; finding the reason for Hermione's sadness was the priority.

"Because he killed my parents. They made me watch."

Her voice was strangely calm, and Draco was alarmed and sickened at the same time, ending in a nauseating feeling that sent shivers up his spine. The warm feeling in him shrivelled up and his blood ran cold and his voice came out in a whisper. "Who did?"

"Your father."

He closed his eyes, shaking his head, still holding Hermione as she clung to him like a drowning woman at sea. "I'm so sorry."

She hiccupped, the tears still streaming from her eyes. "It's not your fault, but I-"

"I still feel responsible." He gently pulled her face away from his shoulder and turned it so she faced him. "That was _my_ father, _my _father_ killing people, killing _your_ parents._ It's terrible, it's disgusting and despicable, and he's _related to me, _Granger."

"It's not your fault, Draco-"

"We're going to escape, Granger."

"How?"

"I talk to my mother every time I get called out of here, and she works with the Order. She's going to help me, to help us escape, Granger." Her gaze moved from unfocused and unseeing into sharp and clear very suddenly, but the tears still hung from her lashes like tiny crystal balls that neither of them could discern a future from. It only strengthened Draco's resolve, and his expression hardened. "I promise, Granger, I'll get you out, alive and well. I promise that we'll get out of here if it's the last thing I do."

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Draco was called out of the cell again.

"Ready to talk?" Voldemort said, an eager and cruel smile twisting his lips.

"There's nothing to talk about." Said Draco. He was becoming braver, and credited this to Granger.

"We'll see." Voldemort turned to Lucius. "You may have the honour."

"Certainly, my Lord." And as Draco grew bolder, grew towards the Light, Lucius became more like his master, shrunk more into the dark.

This time wasn't any sort of wand torture, and as the shiny and razor-sharp blade flicked out from its shell and into Lucius' ready fingers, Draco felt a bead of sweat run down his neck.

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"At least no-one can really call me a Death Eater anymore." Draco said sarcastically the next morning, nursing a bleeding cheek, and a horrific looking, mangled mess of a left forearm. The place where the Dark Mark had been was peeled off like skin from a mandarin, and in places there were little snatches of glistening white bone peeking through the deep cuts. He tried to hide his pain; it was intense and searing, like his flesh was on fire. All he succeeded in doing was grimacing and flinching every time he moved it. "I wish we could get out of here sooner." He sat across the room from Hermione, who was watching him with concern.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Me too."

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Hermione said "here, let me heal your-"

"Leave it Granger, I'm fine!" A horrible lie, and they both knew it.

"No really, Draco, there's blood all over your freaking white shirt, and those wounds are incredibly deep! It's scary, you could bleed ou-"

"Why don't you ever swear?" He interrupted, cocking an eyebrow.

"Oh, shut it, Draco. Why does that even matter anyway? I need to heal it-"

"I'm just interested is all. Granger. If it makes you feel better, I'll use my cloak to wrap it up." He undid the clasp it and ripped a wide piece of fabric off the bottom of it, wrapping it awkwardly around his right arm and gritting his teeth in agony.

Hermione watched him try to tie it up unsuccessfully. "Here, let me do it." She said exasperatedly, reaching over to wrap it up for him. He relented, and she carefully unwrapped the piece of fabric. She winced as she saw his wound; it didn't look like it'd be healing any time soon. Hermione gently re-wrapped it around his arm, showing more tenderness than she ever thought she would show to Draco Malfoy.

When she had finished wrapping it up, she tied the ends tightly to stop the blood flowing out of it, making him cry out and jerk his arm back involuntarily, and grinding his teeth. "Sorry." She said, tucking in the loose threads and smoothing it over affectionately. "There, better?"

"Yeah..." He watched her with a thoughtful expression, a storm raging in his eyes, suddenly making dark and hard to read. "Thank you, Hermione."

"N-no problem." She said, blushing slightly under his intense gaze and his use of her first name, berating herself inside. _Blushing? Really, Hermione? Over Draco Malfoy?_

But he was better, he was a good person. He had helped her escape, he hadn't hurt her. He was sarcastic and mean sometimes, but it was because of the walls he constantly kept around himself. He didn't let anyone in. As soon as she thought of this it all clicked.

"No really, Granger." He used his good arm to capture her cheek in his hand, secretly marvelling at how soft her skin was. "I mean it. Thank you." And he leant in and kissed her.

His lips were soft, so gentle on hers, and Hermione melted into his embrace. He felt like home, like safety and security, the kind of things she had felt around her parents when she was younger. Maybe he _was_ home, maybe he _was_ safety and security, because after spending so many weeks trapped alone with him in a tiny cell, how could he not be? She had become used to his sometimes sarcastic, sometimes broody behaviour, but underneath it all, he was like her. Trying to hide his fear in the face of the unknown.

He broke the kiss first, a faint pinkish tinge glowing on his otherwise pale face making him look healthier and alive. Hermione almost wanted to drag his face back to hers, but decided against it.

They slept beside each other that night. It was the best sleep Draco had ever had, even though he was sleeping on a cold stone floor.

The next morning he woke before she did, and he watched her peaceful, sleeping face in awe. _She's beautiful. How did I not notice this before? Why did it take me so long to realise this? Or am I only thinking this because we've been stuck together for so long?_ To say Draco was confused was a gross understatement, but he hid his confusion beneath his impassive mask and watched her peaceful face until she started stirring. When she woke, he kissed her forehead.

"I know how to escape."

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_**Author's Note: **Well I hope you liked this chapter more than I did guys :) Please follow, favourite and leave a review if you enjoyed this chapter (or any of the others for that matter). Thank you guys so much, I now have nearly 5000 hits and 1000 viewers! Really, this is so amazing! And your reviews are really lovely guys, I get this warm fuzzy feeling whenever I read them, because usually I'm really shy about sharing my writing with people (no-one knows this more than Boyfriend, because I never show him my writing. It's a bit sad, really), and seeing all these really lovely reviews from everyone is really encouraging. Anyway, thanks for reading!_

_~Chongy_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's Note: **Heeeeyy guys! Yes, so I, uh, was writing all day. Not quite literally all day, but close enough. I was in a really weird mood today, kind of depressed almost. It was weird. ANYWAY, HERE IS A CHAPTER :D It took me ages, as I said before, but yeah, here it is. :) Enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer: **jfoidsnfdsakfndsjfHarryfkjds fdsafjoiPotterfdjsfjsfewneIn ciurefaDofdsjakNotfhsdafuewf Own.  
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"You... you know how to escape?" Hermione opened her puffy red eyes and stared at him. "How?"

"I was talking to my mother the last time I was called out and... well, she's going to help us in a couple of days. Just be ready to leave at any moment."

Hermione sat up and took Draco's hand, squeezing it tightly. "Okay."

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"Mother said that it's tonight. We're escaping tonight." Draco pulled out his wand, examining it carefully, and then smoothing the fabric over his left forearm. The wound hadn't really healed at all, but he hadn't really expected it to heal really fast anyway. He suspected there may have been a curse on the knife that caused wounds to heal extra slowly and painfully, because every time he moved his arm it felt like fire was licking it.

Hermione stared. "You... you stole your wand from me?!" She looked outraged, and Draco looked up, slightly surprised at her reaction.

"Self-defense, Granger." He said, unable to hide his smirk. "Just in case."

"But I wasn't even going to do anything! And you-"

"Granger, if I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it before we got sent down here. Trust me."

"Trust you?" She spat, anger still flaring in her eyes. "Why should I trust you?"

"And we're back where we started!" Draco yelled angrily, getting right up in Hermione's face. He didn't know why it made him so angry; it might have been something to do with the fact that he was sick of not being trusted by anyone. "You don't trust me, yet we've spent God knows how long in this piece of shit they call a cell and I've done _nothing_ to you! _Nothing_! I even tried to help you escape, I offered to help you escape, but no! You don't _trust me_. I tried, Granger, I changed. But you, you're still a mother_fucking bitch_!"

Hermione was speechless, staring back into his angry gray eyes. Everything he said was true, save the last part about her being a bitch. She didn't know why she didn't trust him. Maybe it was the lingering memories of their school days; she didn't know. She wanted to trust him, but there was a small lingering doubt in the back of her mind.

"Forget it." Draco said, shaking his head and walking away. "You... you're just..." He just kept shaking his head and walked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He sank against the back of it, massaging his temples in frustration, then winced when the pain from his arm reached him. _I need to get out of here, and soon._ But that night seemed like a murky land on a distant horizon.

Hermione could've kicked herself. Finally, she had decided she liked Draco, then she went and told him she didn't trust him. "Well done, Hermione. You passed that one with flying colours." She muttered to herself, rolling her eyes.

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The door to the cell suddenly materialized, and Hermione pointed her wand at it suspiciously as it opened. She wanted to call Draco, but he was still fuming in the bathroom.

"Draco?" Said a voice. It was female, and gentle; Hermione could hear the love in her voice as Narcissa Malfoy stepped into the room. When she saw Hermione she smiled. "Hello, Hermione. Oh! Draco! There you are."

Hermione whirled around and saw Draco standing behind her. _How did he move so silently?! _He didn't even spare her a glance. "Mother." He said, inclining his head.

"It's ready."

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They hurried along the twisting passageways, and Hermione nearly got lost several times, losing sight of the pale light reflecting off Draco's wand. But she kept up with him and Narcissa, walking into Draco's back when they stopped suddenly. He reached out his arm to steady her, and she glanced up, but he still wasn't looking at her.

"Draco-"

"Shh!" He hissed, turning to face her and raising his eyebrows. Narcissa put a hand on his shoulder and turned him around, tugging him forwards to hide with her in a small alcove behind the family tapestry. He grasped Hermione's hand and she was pulled in with him, pressed up close against Draco's side.

"Okay, so you just need to get to the front door. I got rid of the Death Eaters by letting one of the other prisoners escape out the back door. You'll be fine. You can escape." Narcissa said, and Draco took her hand in his free one.

"Where's the portkey, Mother?" He murmured quietly, watching her closely.

"Outside, it's in the first rosebush on the left. It's a garden spade."

"Okay." He glanced behind him, checking that the coast was clear. "I love you, Mother."

"And I love you, Draco. You're my only son." She kissed his forehead. "So please, be careful. I don't want you to escape only to be killed, okay? Please."

He pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed it. "I promise."

She squeezed his hand tightly, then let go. "Quick, go now. Good luck to the both of you."

Draco and Hermione carefully stepped out of the alcove together, still holding hands, and headed for the grand front doors, feeling very exposed. The doors creaked as Draco opened them, and he winced, checking behind him before opening it wider and pushing Hermione through it, silently moving through after her.

"It's here." He said, as they reached it, his face impassive. They both looked down at the little spade together.

"On three." Hermione said quietly.

"One." His eyes darted to the Manor, and a wave of sadness crashed over him.

"Two." They locked gazes.

"Three!" He touched his finger to the spade and closed his eyes.

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They were outside number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

Draco gaped. "Where... where are we?" He turned to Hermione, who was watching him closely.

Hermione smiled. "This," She said, pushing open the door. "is Grimmauld Place, the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix." And she walked inside. Draco stood awkwardly outside. "What are you doing?" She said, giving him a quizzical look.

"That house is full of people who hate me." He began, his eyes never leaving Hermione's. "Nobody is going to appreciate you bringing me here. I should just go someone else."

"Come on." She said, and she grabbed his hand. He smiled half-heartedly and squeezed it gently before following her in. Once inside, he shut the door and followed her, their fingers intertwined between them.

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"Sit down." Hermione offered, smiling at Draco.

"No thanks, Granger." He said, feeling awkward and uncomfortable in the HQ of his old enemies. He walked to the sink and stared out the window; it was about five in the morning, and the moon was shining brightly against a backdrop of navy clouds, stars twinkling in the spaces between. "I'll stand."

"Suit yourself." She said, opening a cupboard and pulling out two mugs. "Do you want tea?"

Draco dragged his gaze away from the beautiful scene outside. "I... yes. Thanks."

Hermione made them both a steaming brew and placed them on the table. Draco walked over, sitting down in a seat and holding the mug in both hands, hunching over and staring into its depths like it held the answers to all of life's questions.

"Draco... are you okay?"

He looked up, and his expression was sad and anxious. "I don't even know, Granger. This is... so strange, being here, and I don't know how my mother is, and-"

"OI!"

Draco whipped around, then dropped his still-full mug onto the table with a clatter as he quickly stood up and backed away to the far side of the kitchen, a wand pushed up against his throat.

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_**Author's Note: **Aaaaayyyeeee! Sorry about the cliffy (is it a cliffy? I don't know, it doesn't feel like one to me, but that's probably because I know what happens later on), I didn't mean to! Anyway, thank you for reading, and leave me a review and favourite and follow if you enjoyed! :) _

_~Chongy_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's Note: ** Woo I'm on a rooooolllll beeeyatches! Just kidding, you guys are awesome. But I **am **on a roll, and that's exciting ^-^ Here is chapter *checks* eight, so enjoy! You guys are smart cookies, though I guess it waaass pretty obvious it was either going to be Ron or Harry. But still. ;) Anyway I hope you enjoy! :D_

_**Disclaimer: **IT'S RAINING. THAT MAKES NOT OWNING HARRY POTTER EVEN SADDER BECAUSE IT'S RAINING IN FEBRUARY. IT'S GODDAMN SUMMER. WHAT THE HELL.  
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"Ronald! Get off Dra-"

"What the _fuck_ is the ferret doing here, Hermione?!" Yelled Ron, ignoring Hermione and digging his wand further into Draco's throat, fixing him with an angry glare. Draco matched Ron's incensed gaze with a fiery one of his own, sneering down at him as he replaced his mask of indifference.

"Fuck _off_, Weasel." He said, bringing his knee up sharply. Ron roared in pain and doubled over, his wand dropping from Draco. Draco side-stepped him delicately, a look of pure disgust on his face.

When Ron had recovered, he shot a dark glance at Draco from the opposite side of the kitchen, then turned to the only other occupant of the room. "Hermione, this better be good."

She stood between the boys. "Ron, his mother is part of the Order, you know tha-"

"That doesn't mean anything!" Ron cried, snarling at Draco like a wild and caged animal. "He's still one of them!"

"I think you'll find," Hermione said, giving Ron a sarcastic look. "that he denounced them months ago, and that they denounced him, too! You see those bandages on his arm-" Draco folded his arms over his chest, which hid the bandage but made him wince in agony. Ron saw this and laughed scornfully.

"You're nothing but a weak piece of slime, Malfoy." He spat angrily.

"I think you'll also find that he's seen and been subjected to many more horrors than you, Ron, so be quiet. " Draco just smirked at Ron from behind Hermione's back, which made Ron snarl again. She sighed. "Guys, can you just... ugh, Ron, you're being so stupid-"

Ron quickly grasped her hand. "I... I'm sorry for being such an idiot. It's only because I missed you!" He looked into her eyes earnestly, and Hermione found it hard to look away. "I was worried because this prat-" He glared daggers at Draco again. "could've been hurting you, and I couldn't protect you."

Draco felt a twinge of something he couldn't quite place pulse painfully in his chest, and he looked away as Ron leaned in to kiss Hermione. "I'll let you have your little _moment_, Weasel." He said acidly, opening the door and walking outside into the tiny garden, then slamming it behind him.

He sat down and leaned against the house, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. He picked up a stick and gazed at the clouds dancing across the sky, watching as they glowed when they neared the moon. He watched the stars, and tried to find the constellations in the sky; it didn't work, he was too distracted, and his mind kept circling back to Hermione, and the way Ron was staring into her eyes and when he kissed her- Draco started when he heard a cracking sound, then looked at his hand. The stick he'd been twirling between his fingers was now nothing but splinters and shards of wood in his palm. He sighed and threw the remains away into the long grass. _Why does that worry me so much anyway? It's just Weasley, it's just- _His nails were making red crescents in his palms, and he realised that he was feeling jealous. Jealous and... hurt. _Hurt?!_ He thought about it, still feeling her soft lips against his.

"Damn it!" He growled, standing up and kicking a stray rock forcefully, sending it flying over the wall of the tiny garden. Then he heard yelling from inside.

Hermione suddenly felt Ron's lips press against hers. She didn't know what to do, so she let him keep kissing her for a while. But her blood froze in her veins when his hands started creeping up from under her shirt.

"No!" She yelled, putting her hands on his chest and pushing him hard, and backing away.

Ron advanced on her slowly. "Come on Hermione, I'm your boyfriend, what's wrong with us having a little play time?" He winked at her and she nearly gagged.

"No!" She said again, hiding her fear with anger. "How _dare you_! You think that because we were together, that as soon as I get back you can put your dirty paws all over me? You're _despicable_, Ronald Weasley! I don't want you anymore! You disgust me, you're absolutely foul!"

He now had her backed against the wall. "No, I'm not. And I am your boyfriend, whether you like it or not." He said, leering at her and leaning in again to try to kiss her. She turned her head away so he missed her lips and got her cheek. Ron slapped her and she gasped in shock. It stung, and she felt tears springing involuntarily to her eyes. "You do as I say, Hermione. You know tha-"

"Touch her again, Weasel, and you'll be sorry. Back the fuck up. _Now_, if you know what's good for you."

Ron snarled. "Fuck you, Malfoy! You can't tell me what to do!"

"I know many more curses than you do, Weasel. I can and will make you regret this if you don't do as I say right now. So get away from her now." His wand was pointed steadily at Ron, and a cold fury rolled off him in waves.

Ron didn't move. "Just try me." He said, smiling twistedly.

Suddenly, the thundering of footsteps on the stairs could be heard, and the three figures in the kitchen froze.

"What's going on?!" Came a voice from outside, and most of the members burst into the room.

The sight that met their eyes was quite extraordinary.

Draco Malfoy, their old enemy, was standing by the garden door, point his wand coolly at Ron, who was snarling furiously at Draco and standing offensively close to Hermione, who had a bright red handprint on her right cheek.

The presence of other people snapped the trio back into reality.

"You're a bigger prat that I ever thought you were, Weasel. Imagine trying to force yourself on you so-called girlfriend, you make me sick." Draco spat, putting his wand away and glaring at Ron. Hermione slipped away from Ron and walked over to Draco, hurt welling up in her chest.

Harry was the first to speak, as the rest of the Order was shocked into silence. "Hermione! You're back! I'm so happy!" He strode over and gave her a warm hug. Then he turned to Ron. "What were you doing to her?"

"I...I- nothing, Harry, honest. I was just giving her a welcome back kiss, you know how I've been missing her."

"Hmm." Harry examined the handprint on Hermione's cheek, quirking an eyebrow. "For some reason, I think it might have been more than that."

"The ferret did that." Ron retorted, shooting Draco an evil smile.

"Don't lie, Weasel. It doesn't become your pretty face." Draco said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Hermione?" Harry turned to her.

She frowned, giving Ron a disgusted look. "It wasn't Draco, I assure you."

"I'll talk to you later then, Ron." He turned to Draco. "Malfoy." He said, inclining his head.

"Hello, Scarhead." Draco said pleasantly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Still an annoying prat, I see."

"Of course. But that means you're still a prick then."

"Of course."

They reached an uneasy approval.

"Narcissa said you would be coming with Hermione." Harry said, a grateful smile breaking out on his face. "Thank you for escaping with her and keeping her safe."

"Sure." Said Draco uncomfortably, painfully aware of the number of eyes on him.

"I trust Draco, if that means anything to you guys. He's been a good companion, and he has been through horrors none of you ever want to face." Said Hermione quietly. All the eyes in the room turned to stare at her. "He tried to escape with me earlier, but he... well." She met Draco's eyes, but he looked away, unwilling to relive that awful night.

"Well then, welcome to the Order." Said Harry holding out his hand.

Draco stared at it in shock as Ron shouted "_what_?! You're just going to let him in?! He's a criminal, he-"

"You should probably stop talking, Ron." Said Harry, slightly frostily. "We all know that you hurt Hermione, so I think at this stage, Malfoy seems more trust-worthy than you do."

There was silence.

"Let's... uh, find you a room, Draco." Said Lupin placatingly, and Draco followed him quickly, feeling increasingly more uncomfortable in the kitchen as the tension rose and became almost palpable in the silent air.

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_**Author's Note: **Jokes guys sorry about this chapter, I have a feeling that this chapter was really crap, but I had maths and english homework ._. and a whole load of other crap to sort out (also I had an argument and I'm not in the best of moods, so writing was not really as high on my priority list as say, fuming and chopping up pieces of paper viciously. Anyway, if you enjoyed, leave me a review and follow and or favourite (if you haven't already ;D). Thank you so much for your support guys, it's really amazing that I've got so many followers and views (like today, I got back from school and there were already 1000 views. JUST FROM TODAY HOLY MACKEREL. Anyway, thanks guys!_

_~Chongy_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Author's Note: **__Oh hai guise. (Sorry for that terrible use of the English language.) I am so incredibly sorry I haven't updated for I don't even know how long, it feels like ages. I have been so bogged down with homework and actually using my brain (it's all covered in cobwebs and stuff so cleaning it out and putting in new information was pretty difficult and just an overly long and boring process). Right now, I am procrastinating because I have lots of Physics (thanks, Physics extension! -_-") a report for Bio and crap like that to do. Oh, the joys of restarting school! Anyway, my guess is that it has been about four weeks (ish) since I have posted, and I'm being awful because this is... well... short. Sorry. It took a while to get back into the mood of writing and also what the flop I was writing about. I'd like to thank Sleepyhead (Stripped Down Version) by Passion Pit, Soldier On by the Temper Trap, Slow and Steady and Sloom by Of Monsters and Men for the inspiration to finally write this! So here is another chapter. Enjoy!_

**_Disclaimer:_**_ I OWN NONE OF THE GOOD CHARACTERS, DAMN IT. J.K. ROWLING, THAT'S YOU. IT INCLUDES OTHER BOOKS SERIES TOO. I'M TALKING TO YOU, AUTHOR OF THE NIGHT HUNTRESS SERIES. YES YOU, JEANIENE FROST. WHY DON'T I OWN BONES AND DRACO?! D';_

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As soon as Draco and Lupin left the room the arguing started.

"You are so _fucking stupid_ Har-"

"Don't call me stupid, look at Hermione-"

"Stop it both of you, I can handle myself!" Hermione snarled, shooting dirty looks at both boys. The rest of the Order kept their silence, amazed at seeing the Golden Trio aruging so vehemently.

"No, you can't. You lived with the ferret for a quarter of a year-"

"You can do maths, Ronald? I'm so surprised! You're so thick most of the ti-"

Ron snorted. "You're so weak-"

"Since when did you start treating me like this, R-"

"Yeah Ron, what's gotten into you?! You were so worried when she was away, and now she's back you're so fucking aggres-" Harry was cut off by Ron, who was gesticulating wildly, his whole face bright red.

"I'M NOT THE ONE WHO'S AGGRESSIVE!" He roared. "MALFOY WAS THE ONE WHO WAS _POINTING A FUCKING WAND AT ME_! _HE_ SHOULD BE THE ONE-"

"Shut up." Quiet, menacing. The barest hint of a deadly fury beneath the soft, malicious tone. "All of you." Severus Snape stepped into view.

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Draco stared at the ground as Lupin lead him upstairs. He felt awkward and uneasy, especially because Weasley had been so... weird. He'd never been shy, and he could hold his own well enough, but he felt oddly vulnerable as they climbed the steps.

"Here's your room, Draco." He looked up, and saw Lupin opening a door. He was smiling. _Smiling?!_ "I hope you find it comfortable."

Draco looked at him quizzically. "Why... why are you..."

"Being nice?" Lupin's smile broadened knowingly, and it made Draco stiffen. _We have _nothing_ in common. You know _nothing. "Because I know what it's like to be an outsider. It's hard. And also, I'm glad that another innocent person has seen the Light."

Draco felt even more awkward. "Oh. Um... thanks, I guess."

An explosion of sound echoed up the stairs, and Draco flinched slightly. Lupin's smile turned to one of apology. "I should go and diffuse the situation. I'll come back up and see how you're doing later." And with that, Lupin turned on his heel and hurried down the stairs.

Draco went inside and shut the door, leaning against it and sliding down the smooth, wooden surface. _My life is a fucking mess. How the fuck did I even..._ He paused, and then sighed, resting his head in his hands. _Does it even matter? Are they my enemies anymore...? I just..._ He sighed again and bit his lip. He wanted Granger and a rocketship to fly them away from the chaos, both inside and out of his head. She'd know how to make him feel better. After all, she'd been keeping him sane for several months already.

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Snape looked around at the three coldly. "You are all acting like children." He hissed, sending daggers in Ron's direction. "Especially you, Weasley. You're being the brat I always knew you were, especially after-"

Hermione's fury bubbled over. "Stop this! I'm leaving! I'm not a fragile doll! I don't need protecting, and I will not tolerate being spoken to like a child, Severus!" And she stormed from the kitchen, leaving the rest of the Order in her wake. She accidentally walked into Lupin on the way out, and he caught her as she stumbled.

"What's going on, Hermione? Are you-"

"I'm fine, Remus." She said, forcing a smile that cracked at the corners. "Could you just tell me where Draco is?"

He didn't comment on her strained grimace. "Third floor, second door on the right. Opposite yours, actually."

"Thanks." And she sped off.

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"Draco? Draco open up!"

The pounding on the door was reverberating in his head worsening his migraine. He growled before unfolding his tall frame and pulling open the door. "Wh-" But someone fell in towards him. He tripped backwards but managed to keep his balance and caught the person easily in his long arms. "Hermione?"

She stood back up, pushing her bushy hair from her eyes and huffing. "Who else?"

"I-" Draco was taken aback. "You..." A bitter wave of resentment that fed his hungry migraine, and he hissed, his whole body tensed against the pain as he raised a shaky hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, hoping in vain it would rid him of the god-awful headache. "You and Weaselbee? What happened?"

"Nothing. You saw-"

"Yeah, but you said that-"

Hermione cut him off, chucking his chin lightly and smiling gently. "I didn't say anything! Honestly Draco, stop being silly." He relaxed slightly, gathering her in his arms and smiling slightly, burying his nose into her shoulder.

"Okay then." A serious thought sobered him. "So what's going to happen now?"

Hermione pulled away, nibbling her lip and anxiously studying his face. "I don't know" was her only reply.

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The same question was being asked downstairs, albeit in a slightly more derogatory way.

"So, what are we doing with that _scum_, then?" said Ron vehemently, pacing furiously around the kitchen. All the eyes in the room followed him, and he grew angrier still. "What are you all staring at? If it were me deciding, I would have chucked him out by now. He doesn't belong here, with our people. It's ridiculous and stupid you even thought-"

"I think," said Harry, a frown creasing his forehead as he watched his friend with concern and a shade of anger. "that you should leave, Ron. Go outside for a bit, clear your head. I need you to be my friend, to help us think through this logically, and to be reasonable. You're being a right idiot about now."

If looks could kill, they'd all have died horrific deaths as Ron glared at them before stalking out to the garden, slamming the door behind him.

Harry turned to face the rest of the Order, sitting at the head of the table and folding his hands together, watching them expectantly. "What do we do with Draco, then?"

"Torture him!"

"Yeah! He has valuable information-"

"Boy, we should-"

"Moody, don't you dare turn anyone into a ferret again!" That was McGonagall.

"I don't bloody care woman, if it gets informa-"

"We should just kill him! Ron has a point."

"And stoop to Voldemort's level? I don't think so." Harry sighed, resting his chin in his hand thoughtfully. "We should let Hermione and Severus decide. They know him best."

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_**Author's Note: **Heeeeellllll yeeeeaaaahhh Starkid reference for the win! (For those of you who didn't catch it, "He wanted Granger and a rocketship...". The line from the play is to the effect of "I WANT HERMIONE GRANGER!11!...and a rocketship.") Fabulous! If you haven't a clue what I'm talking about, please go and watch at least one part of A Very Potter Musical by Starkids. It is incredible! ANYWAY, hopefully that was enough for now :) I'll be working on another chapter for Nights Like These (and still procrastinating. Hah.) and so hoooooppppeeefuuuuullllyyyy (no promises because I am not organized and so can't give a definite time) it might be posted by this evening. No promises. Anyway, if you enjoyed, please leave me a review kicking my butt about having to wait for so long but also that you enjoyed it ;D follow and favourite if you liked and haven't done so already! Thanks again guys._

_~Chongy_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Author's Note: **__Hey guys! I just wanted to quickly reply to one of the reviews- no, I haven't read the rest of the series (or spin off series) yet, I'm only on book three, and I fell in love. It took me a week to read the three of them, and my friends all thought I was crazy for reading them so fast. ;) ***UPDATE*: I finished that series. I loved that series. Ohmylawd :3 anyway, I am now reading Clockwork Princess, for any of you who are interested :) JEM ALL THE WAY! I'm so sorry I haven't written for ages, damn school stealin' all mah daym time! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy :) the song I recommend listening to while Draco is playing is Soldier On by the Temper Trap (again. I'm sorry). That's the song I imagined him to be playing because he was remembering, and both the lyrics and the music kind of fit (my opinion anyway. ;D).**_

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Draco leaned back against the pillows, staring up at the dark ceiling, his arms folded and propping his head up. He hadn't slept a wink, and now he watched the darkness ebb away, light slowly seeping into the dancing shadows. Hermione was breathing deeply to his right, and he didn't want to wake her, though the quiet murmuring and occasional shouts of anger could well have shattered her fragile slumber already.

After staring at the ceiling for a few more minutes, he sighed quietly and rolled off the bed, going to stand by the window sill. Draco watched the sun stain the cold gray sky, listening to the arguing that had been going on for hours.

"Really, we need to decide fast. This is ridiculous it's taken so long-"

"Yes I know Harry, but-"

A cold drawl Draco knew instantly as Snape's cut in. "Why is it so impossible for you all to accept that Draco has really crossed to our side? Is it so difficult? Are you so immature? Think with your _heads_, you _insolent children_, rather than your egos!"

Moody joined in, sending an involuntary shudder down Draco's spine; never would he forget the horror of becoming a ferret and being forced down Crabbe's pants. "For once, you're right, Severus, and I agree. You are being idiotic, Potter! My vote is that the boy stays here. He could have invaluable information about Voldemort, and if need be-" His voice dropped, and Draco had to strain to hear it. When he did catch the faint strains of sound, a cold dread congealed in the pit of his stomach. "we can always torture it out of him." There were mumurs of agreement, an uncomfortable hiss from Snape, and a smug grunt of assent from Ron. Although Draco couldn't see this happening, he blanched at the cool way the words were delivered.

"I think I've been tortured enough." He muttered quietly, going back to the bed, and lying down, brushing a stray curl from Hermione's face. "It seems every day I fall for you more and more..." Draco slowly caressed her cheek with his fingers. "I can't believe that just a few months ago I... we... well. I'm glad I'm over those stupid prejudices. I... I'm glad I like you now. I'm glad... that you seem to like me now, too." He said the last part almost shyly. _Almost._ Malfoys were never nervous or shy. He pulled his hand away as it lingered upon her skin, frowning as he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

Draco had just gotten up from the bed and taken a step when it slammed open against the opposite wall, stopping him short. Ron was on the other side of the door, and Draco's hackles rose, both of them engaged in a death stare that could've withered any in the path of their glares.

"They-we. We decided that you can, uh, _stay__." _The word was cast from his mouth triumphantly, and at first Draco was confused.

"I thought you didn-"

"But, be warned, at anytime, we may ask you for information!" Ron interrupted, a gleam of something dark in his eyes. "Oh, sorry, did I say 'ask'? I meant _torture_-" The gleam turned into a spark. "-the information out of you, Malfoy. Do enjoy your stay."

The maniacal fire in Weasley's eyes disturbed Draco, so deeply in fact, that he wondered how no-one else had noticed it yet, the frenzy that had the Weasel firmly in its grasp.

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He walked the stairs, long fingers trailing delicately in the fine layer of dust that had settled on the bannister; this part of the house was obviously not used as much as the rest of the house, as none of the dust had been stirred for what looked like weeks. Draco milled around the rooms, drifting like a ghost in-between the door frames, eventually wandering into what appeared to be a music room: there was a dusty piano in the corner, and a classical guitar leaned against the stool. Draco picked it up absently, cleaning the dust from it with a _Scourgify!_ and an old microfibre cloth he found hiding in a drawer. He polished the surface lovingly, not satisfied until it gleamed darkly in the starlight coming in from the window.

He rested on the piano stool, and pulled the guitar into his lap. He tuned it carefully, having developed an ear for music when he was a young boy, before Lucius became so involved in the Dark Arts. He had often played for his mother, and she would sometimes sing songs while he played. _That was so many dreams ago..._ Draco suddenly felt old, even though he was only nineteen. It felt odd, unnatural, but looking back on those memories made him yearn to be that small boy once more, only with the understanding he had now. Though maybe if he knew then what he knew now, he would, perhaps, be more depressed than he already was.

Without realising what he was doing, the fingers of his left hand had moved to the neck of the guitar, the right to caress the strings at the other end. His memories stole him away from reality for a few precious minutes, and his hands began to play, soothing the strings when he plucked them, pressing against the fretboard to entice a new note to sing from the instrument as he manipulated the music. It swelled from him and his guitar, entirely sweet, but with a barely-there undertone of the most painful sorrow, the kind that rips the heart into many pieces. The kind of sorrow that tears at the soul, that is rent from one such as himself. Draco remembered his mother's voice, so sweet and beautiful, and his accompaniment, piano or guitar.

Guitar had always been his favorite though; he remembered the day when he had lost his guitar like it had only been yesterday.

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_Sun streamed in through the tall windows lining the wall, and Narcissa Malfoy stood in their combined glow, her pale skin made golden and lovely in the afternoon light._

_"Ready, Draco?" She turned to him, smiling as he nodded fervently and gathered up his guitar, small fingers eagerly resting in the shape of the first chord. "Right then. When you're ready, my son."_

_Draco closed his eyes, feeling his heart hammering in his chest, quivering with excitement. He played the first chord, then moved his fingers into the next shape, this time pulling separate strings and coaxing a stream of beautiful notes from them. After the introduction was finished, he returned to chords, and Narcissa began to sing. _

_She sang of beaches, crabs scuttling between the pretty seashells that lined them, of long stretches of sand with glittering water enticing the two lovers walking along it. The girl stepped into its sparkling depths, and it pulled her under, drowning her. The boy was agonized, as she was his true love, his only love. He was hollow, he was empty without her. And so he became a lighthouse keeper, forever watching that deceptively lovely sea, warning others to stay away from its charm. _

_Many years later, the battered, lonely lighthouse reflected the old man within. It stood upon the same great, craggy rock in the centre of the same outcrop of volcanic rock, not far from where the ocean had taken his lover. And one day, a mermaid appeared. Beautiful, she was, with long and flowing red hair, her tail glittering gold. And as she watched the lighthouse, as she sang her song, he saw her face._

_It was her. His lover. The one who had died so many years ago. He ran down the steps, ignoring the pain in his side that told him his hip was playing up again. He ran as fast as he could have when he was but a young man, and made it to the door. He slammed it open, and yelled to her from afar. "My love, the one who is all to me! How you call to me! How you call to me! I love you! I love you more than the sun loves the moon, I love you like the earth loves the sky."_

_She only watched him, quirking her head interestedly. After a long while, she replied. "And I love you."_

_He felt tears in his eyes. "Will you take me with you, my lovely?"_

_Her reply-_

_Lucius stood in the doorway. "What," he said, his voice furious, violently coloured. Cold. "are you doing?" He strode up to Narcissa, shaking her, then landing a slap on her face that echoed around the cavernous room. "Music? What a waste of time." He spat the words like dirt in her face. Then he turned to Draco. "And you." He plucked the precious guitar from Draco's grasp as if were nothing, as if it meant nothing. "You wasted my money on _this_?" He brought his arm down, smashing it against the mahogany floor. The wood of the guitar splintered, black painted shards flying everywhere, the strings snapping and whipping viciously everywhere. Draco's heart felt like it had been crushed beneath a dragon. "I can't believe it. Never. I never want to hear any type of this rubbish in my house, you hear? NEVER!"_

_Many hours later, Draco sat alone in the dark music room amongst the ruins of his only passion in life, shrouded by shadows as his tears fell thick and fast upon the remains he had gathered before him. _

That was the last time he had ever touched an instrument.

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A door slammed, and there were hurried footsteps before- "Guys, I heard some bad stuff went down at Malfoy Manor. Narcissa..." Draco's heart clenched. "She... guys, she was killed."

Silence. Draco caught his reflection in the window next to him and felt even more shock: if it was possible to be paler than the palest white, that was him; chalky and pale. His face was set into an expression of deep-seated sadness and he looked lost, empty. Disgusted, Draco set his face angrily into a more composed and calm expression. _Malfoys never show their true feelings. But Mother... Mother I._.. He swallowed.

_I miss you._

Now he would never hear the end of the story.

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**_Author's Note:_**_ Heeeeey guys! :) Again, many apologies for the lack of writing. It wasn't on purpose, I promise. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Happy Easter, for those of you who celebrate it :) If you liked this, please favourite and follow if you haven't already, I promise I'll attempt (and hopefully) post up another chapter of either this or NLT for you by Tuesday :) Thank you so much for reading!_

_~Chongy_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Author's Note:** Wow. I actually have time to update! (What? Physics formative? What is that? Is it due tomorrow? What?) Anyway, there will almost definitely (WOO!) be another chapter today, it's already half finished. It's already halfway because it was originally going to be part of this chapter, believe it or not (my recommendation is to believe it). But then it was waaay too long (or not... maybe I should have kept it as one chapter...) so I decided to leave it on a cliffy (kinda) and then have another one waiting :) Anyway, please enjoy!_

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**_Disclaimer: _**_Yadda yadda I don't own Harry Potter. Or Draco. Or Bones. Or Jem. :'C_

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The sound of music filled number 12 Grimmauld Place for the first time in what must have been decades. It filled the house with a melancholy so deep that it made Hermione's heart wrench as she sat alone in the kitchen, toying with a cup of tea that had long lost its warmth. The rest of the Order had left the house, and Harry had taken Hermione aside quietly, asked her if she had wanted to come with them; they were visiting one of the safe houses to update and check on the people within. They were also going to find Narcissa's body. She had refused, saying that she had a headache, that she was fine staying here. Reluctantly, Harry had left her alone in the house with Draco.

_Draco..._

She hadn't seen him all day, and she was getting a little worried, though she knew he was in the house somewhere. One could not simply assuage the bond many months spent alone together had contrived, and she missed his closeness. She knew he would be hurting over Narcissa's death, and she had given him space, the day to grieve. But it was evening now, and she thought she might go and find him.

Then the music began. Faint, lilting, sad. Despondent, almost. Soft notes fell like velvety petals from a dying rose, beautiful and not. Hermione sat, her eyes closed, just listening to it. And suddenly, the meaning became clear to her. The song Draco played told of the life of his mother. The good and the bad, the happy and sad. Hermione stood up abruptly and went to find him.

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The music compelled her closer, enticing her up the stairs while she observed the thin lines cut through the fine coating of dust upon the banister When she reached the top, Hermione walked quickly to the music room, her feet moving nearly without her volition. "Draco? Draco I..." She stopped. He sat with his back to her, fingers still working upon the instrument held so delicately in his hands. Hermione walked closer to him, then around him so she could see his face. Tears had worn a light trail down the sides of his face, but they were long dry. His face now only held a deeply set expression, of misery and resignation. "Draco?"

The spell broke, and the music subsided. "Yes?" That one word held so much agony that she propelled herself into his arms. Draco stiffened, then pushed her away, setting the guitar aside before gathering her close again. He rested his head in the curve of her neck, closing his eyes and burying his face into her hair. _Don't you dare cry again, Draco. Not in front of her. She would think you weak, a coward, more so than you already are. You can never show her._ He pressed his lips together tightly and drew away, watching her face. "Yes, Granger?"

"I... I just came to see who was playing."

His lips quirked slightly at the lie. "Granger, even I know we're alone in this house. Why the pretence?"

She flushed. "Well, it was really beautiful. Your mother was a great witch. I'm so sorry Draco." Draco's slight smile instantly vanished, and his face became hard.

"You and me both." He said, standing. Draco held out his hand, and she accepted, letting him pull her up to a standing position. He still towered above her, but she felt safe and secure with him. Suddenly, his lips were on hers, his breath swift and hot on her skin. His tongue teased at the crease of her lips, and she obliged, opening her mouth so he could explore the treasure she kept within. "Granger..." His voice was like hot fudge on ice-cream to her: she melted more into his embrace, and as his hands ghosted up her sides underneath her shirt, she couldn't help but let a little shudder of pleasure run through her. "Granger, you are so beautiful. You are so lovely. You know how much I love you." He growled softly as he reached the gentle swell of her breasts, and she let another shudder through her body. Draco slowly pushed her shirt over her head, then reached around her back to undo her bra strap. Once that was done, he stopped to watch her. Hermione, feeling a little shy, covered her modesty but Draco stopped her, his gaze locked onto hers. "Don't do that."

"Why not?!"

He smoothed her unruly curls out of her eyes. "Because you are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on. There is no need at all to be ashamed, though if it makes you feel better, I can stop staring at how lovely you are." Hermione blushed. Then his lips were on hers again, and suddenly she found her back up against the wall behind the piano. Her arms were locked around his neck, and his hands were cupping her breasts gently. His kisses trailed fire down her neck, and she let out little gasps of pleasure. He growled again, and when he caught her nipple gently between his teeth, she let out a long, loud moan that made Draco's eyes dart up to hers. "Has no-one ever done that to you before?"

Hermione panted, frowning slightly. "Uh, no."

Draco was shocked. "What?! Not even Weaselbee?! I thought the two of you were... at school... hmm." He started kissing her again. Suddenly Hermione could taste salt, and Draco wasn't holding her any more. He was clutching at her like a drowning man to a lifesaver, his fingers digging into her waist as he buried his face into her shoulder. He shuddered as sobs wracked through his body, and Hermione backed him up, sinking down onto the piano stool.

_You fool!_ A voice in his mind shouted at Draco as he cried into her. _You let her see this. This _weak_ and _unworthy_ part of you. You don't deserve her! _Draco ignored it for now: he was too preoccupied with his shattered heart. "My mother..." he whispered, his voice muffled and shaky against her shoulder. "Mother..." He was holding Hermione so tightly that she struggled to breathe.

"Draco-" He released her instantly, pushing away and scrambling to his feet, his expression wild.

"Merlin... what have I done?" he moaned, running his hands through his pale blonde hair, his face ashen and his gray eyes taking her half-dressed form in. "I... I... don't... don't do that... I shouldn't have- don't comfort me-" Draco turned abruptly on his heel and fled from the room, leaving a shocked and hurt Hermione reeling in his wake.

He thundered down the stairs, gripping the banister with white knuckles as he slipped and stumbled in his haste to get away from Hermione. Shame and anger at himself flushed his pale cheeks as he barrelled through the empty hallways, and he skidded to a halt in front of his door, wrenching the handle and kicking it shut behind him. Slowly, he fell back against the door, sliding down to land in a tangle of neatly folded limbs at the bottom.

_I am so _weak_! I can't even control myself around her, let alone my emotions. I can't believe what I did! That is inexcusable. I shouldn't have left her... She doesn't deserve a mess like this. Granger deserves better than this._

Hermione sat on the stool, picking up the guitar that had been leaning solemnly against the piano. She tried to make music as Draco had done, but the magic seemed to have been lost from it when he had set it down.

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The next morning, everyone huddled around the table. Draco sat as far away as he could from Hermione, staring moodily into his mug and snapping at anyone who got too close to him. Nobody really blamed him, after all, his only real remaining loved one had died only hours ago. Nobody except Hermione really cared much either, because so many loved ones had died during this war that a single death almost wasn't important any more. Hermione stole glances at him from across the table, but he did not look at her once.

The silence around the table was thick and heavy; last night had been a catastrophe. The Order members had visited one of the safe houses, and they had been ambushed. Badly.

The people inside were long dead. The people- the _remains_, the _corpses_- were inundated with flies, maggots writhing and slithering in and out of the rotting flesh, the smell already permeating the room their bodies were piled in. The visiting Order members had gagged, turning to each other in horror-

And that's when the Death Eaters had struck. The Order had barely escaped with their lives, and many had sustained horrible injuries. The strain of these showed on the faces of the people around the table, and eventually, most eyes came to rest upon Draco. He could feel their eyes burning into him, but he tried to ignore them, his gaze boring holes into the dregs of coffee at the bottom of his mug.

Weasley- _of course it would be Weasel!-_ spoke first. "So." Draco wondered distractedly how one word could be so filled with malicious pleasure, but he also remembered how it was possible: only a few years ago, he had been using hurtful words strung together with a dilute version of the same sadism. "So, Malfoy. Did you know about the attack last night?" The kitchen's atmosphere dropped even further in degrees, and everything was still as Draco lifted his gaze to match Ron's. He paused, considering the maniacal fire in the other man's eyes.

"No." He said slowly. The word rang through the still silence, even though it was said quietly. When no-one spoke, he continued, ignoring Ron's triumphant smile. "I know I've only been here a day, but honestly. Have I given you reason to mistrust me?" He was met with pointed glares, and he flushed slightly. "A-apart from our school days. So far there has been nothing I have done wrong. I brought Hermione back to you, safe and sound and entirely unhurt. My mother-" he choked. "-my mother, she never gave you reason to doubt her. I haven't done anything to destroy or hurt anything or anyone in this house during my stay." Draco cast his gray-eyed gaze around the table at the stony faces. "I have given you no reason to suspect me."

"Ah," The flames danced in his icy blue stare. "But there are still the conditions you were staying here under, Malfoy. If you don't comply, we can, ah, _torture _that information out of you."

His smile was so dark that it made Draco ponder how a third of the Golden Trio had become so cold.

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"So, what do you know of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's knowledge of the safe houses?"

Draco licked his dry lips, which did little to help because his mouth was dry also. He clasped his hands together on the dark wood. "I can't tell you that." He said quietly, raising his gaze to Moody's. The grizzled old Auror sighed.

"Have you seen this kind of thing before?" Moody said, changing the subject abruptly. There were just the five of them in the room; Moody, Weasel, Scarhead, Granger and himself. Moody was holding a strange device in his hands.

"I... no. What is-"

"Miss Granger, over there," he gestured towards Hermione, who was watching the scene unfold with horror-filled eyes. "Showed me how to use these Muggle contraptions. This here device has been used since medieval times, it's called a _thumbscrew_. You're a smart man, I'm sure you can figure out what it does. Scary to think how much pain can be inflicted upon one without a curse to do so. But, being wizards... we can use both. Now," his gaze returned to Draco's over the thumbscrew. "What do you know about You-Know-Who's knowledge of us?"

Draco felt a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck, sending a shudder down his spine which he suppressed. "I can't tell you."

"I didn't really want to do this, you know." Moody started undoing the screws, his eyes still locked on Draco's. "But I have to do it for my people and all the innocents out there. They depend on us to keep them safe, though they may not know it."

"I honestly can't tell you-"

"You leave me no choice." The thumbscrew was brought over Draco's own thumbs, and as he struggled to get out of the chair, ropes suddenly appeared out of nowhere and bound him to the chair. "Thank you, Weasley. You can take it from here. I'll do the questioning."

A knife flipped out of its shell into Moody's hand, and Draco blanched, remembering a night, so long ago now, when his father had-

"Am I not one of your people then?!" Draco yelled, still struggling against the ropes that were so tightly encasing him to the chair. "Do I not count?!"

The knife flashed downwards.

"No, you don't."

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_**Author's Note: **Woo! Exciting! Draco was an idiot with Hermione. But anyway. I hope you all enjoyed! Please do favourite and follow if you haven't already and you enjoyed what you read! :) Also, please leave me a review! They are always really appreciated and I do love hearing what you guys have to say about what happens in each chapter :) Also, if you want to ask questions about anything feel free to PM me :) Thanks for reading!_

_~Chongy_


	12. Chapter 12

_**Author's Note: **Here it is, as promised! :D Thank you for you reviews guys! And hey, San Juanita, I'm really glad you're enjoying my story so far :) Actually, I'm so glad everyone seems to be enjoying this so far, your support is really appreciated. :) _

**_Disclaimer:_**_No... no I own no awesome characters. Just an awesome imagination. ;D_

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Slowly, slowly, the screws were tightened. With each question he couldn't answer, the curses became more intense. With each smile of the Weasel's, the knife- _the knife!_- was brought down upon his flesh with more brutality. Draco winced in pain ocassionally, though his bloodied lip showed his failed attempts at keeping his agony within. It was worse even than what Lucius had delivered, because Weasel also delivered some merciless punches or kicks whenever he felt the time was right, which joined the knife slashes and the _Crucio_ curses. The Order members weren't supposed to use those, but seeing as Draco was an enemy, Weasley had taken it upon himself to administer them. And Draco was so _tired_...

"I can't... I can't tell you..." He moaned, head drooping forwards, and eyes closing.

"Why not?" Weasel snarled. The screws tightened, and this time, Draco felt white hot agony blossom and fill his senses as he heard two ominous cracks. Black spots covered his suddenly blurry vision and he felt glorious unconsciousness begin to drag him under but- "No! You're staying awake through all of this!"

"Ronald, leave him be for a-"

"No, Granger, he's right! This is his weakest point yet! The bugger has been withstanding all of this for a solid day now. To win this _war_ Granger, you have to _learn_ to be _brutal_! And sometimes that means doing things you don't want to do."

_Don't tell her that! She should never be like that! Never! I can't believe she had to watch this...wait. Why _is_ she watching this? Why isn't she standing up for me?! After I told her I loved her this-this is how she repays me? What kind of twisted world do I live in?!_

"Wake up, you filthy fucking Death Eater."

"I'm not a mother_fucking _Death Eater." Draco mumbled irritatedly.

Ron just snorted. "Of course you are."

"Feel free to check, you stupid motherfucker, or ask Granger over there," his stony expression met her horrified one and he said nothing more. "But I can honestly tell you that I am _not a fucking Death Eater_!"

"How can we trust you when you have lied about so many other things? When you can't even tell us information we need?" Potter was smarter than Draco gave him credit for. But why wasn't Granger telling them the truth? That his own father had torn the brand from his flesh like a sticker, that there wasn't a Dark Mark there any longer?

Draco felt a cold hand slapping at his face as his head was suddenly jerked back up. He coughed, which spattered blood over Ron's face and gave Draco a small piece of satisfaction. "Awake. Stay. Awake. You. Disgusting. Fucking. Piece. Of. Filth!" Each word was punctuated by a slap.

Draco just smiled, even though he could taste blood on his teeth and his body was screaming for mercy from its agony. "No."

"No?!"

But the fog misted his mind and he slumped forwards over the table, blood staining his pale skin and hair like flowers.

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_Draco hurried down the corridor, slipping into a darkened alcove and listening closely, his heart hammering. _What were they talking about? _He had seen his father, Lucius, and the Dark Lord walking together, and they were discussing things in deadly whispers. He had caught something about "the Mudblood girl" and "the Order" and "safehouses" but he wasn't entirely sure what was going on. So he had followed them here, and he stood quietly, concealed by a large decorative curtain, and listened to the conversation floating through the open door._

_"Lucius, I have plans for our little Mudblood friend you keep in your dungeons." Voldemort said, a smirk lighting his face. Lucius smiled back, and his eyes gleamed. _

_"Do tell me, my Lord, what it is. Draco will be interested, I thi-"__  
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_"The boy must not know of my plans." Voldemort interrupted, rage flaring in his red eyes. "He is only young, and he is easily influenced. If his loyalties were to change, though he would suffer severe punishment from me once I caught him, he could reveal all to the Order and ruin my plans. You will _not_ tell him. You understand, Lucius?" The last part wasn't really a question._

_"Y-yes, of course, my Lord."_

_"Good." Voldemort paced the room, and Lucius's eyes never left his skeletal frame. His hissing voice echoed around the walls. "Now, I plan to round up all the Mudbloods and Muggles. We have already made a statue using their bodies in the main foyer of the Ministry, have we not? If that wasn't a good show of power, I don't know what is. But now, we must do more, put them right into their place. We will use the Mudblood girl as an... example." A cruel smile. "She will be our servant. A slave. And for more than just cooking and cleaning." His smirk grew wider, and Lucius grasped the meaning._

_"You mean... for pleasure, too?"_

_"She is a little Mudblood, what difference does it make if she becomes a Mudwhore?"_

_Their laughter echoed down the corridor and Draco felt like throwing up. _They couldn't do that... not to Granger.

_"And of the Order's safe houses, my Lord?"_

_Another bout of cruelty curled his lips. "Well. From an informant right in the heart of the Order, I have gathered information about five of the six safe houses. The Blood Traitor's house; your cousin Andromeda's house; Shell Cottage, the one where the blood traitor and the veela girl live; the house of Remus Lupin and your niece-"_

_"They are no relatives of mine, my Lord."_

_"Good. And the final one is the house of Kingsley Shacklebolt. __It is still not enough! I need to know what the other safe house is! I already know where the others are and what enchantments keep them safe. We will take them down one by one. But for now... for now, I must gather more intelligence on the other safe house."_

_"Indeed, my Lord."_

_Draco had heard enough: he stepped out from around the curtain and had started walking away when-_

_"Draco." _

_He spun around, his aristocratic nose suddenly meeting Voldemort's lack of one. Lucius looked scandalized._

_"Draco," He shouted, storming over. "What were you doing standing outside the door? What have you heard?!"_

_"I-I didn't hear anything, I was just walking past-"_

_"Liar." The twisted smirk lingered upon Voldemort's sallow skin. "Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, for he shall punish you. You heard all of it, didn't you?"_

_Draco hesitated, then, with a glance at his furious father, admitted. "Yes."_

_"Then we shall do something about that." Voldemort turned. "Lucius, come here, bring your wand."_

_He complied, stepping closer and procuring his wand from the depths of his robes. "Master?"_

_"We will perform an Unbreakable Vow. Or a one-sided form of it anyway." Voldemort's eyes flashed with malice as he held Draco's hand in a death grip. "Begin." _

_From the wand burst many thin streams of red fire, wrapping like fine chains around Draco and the Voldemort's entwined hands._

_"Do you, Draco Abraxas Malfoy, promise to forever withhold from everyone the information you have gleaned today or risk death as penalty?"_

_Draco hesitated. _Would dying really be such a bad thing?_ But with a glance at his father, decided against being rebellious. He nodded._

_"Say it out loud, you fool!" Voldemort hissed, seething with rage. "Hurry, you stupid boy! I haven't all day to waste with the likes of you."_

_Draco spoke quickly. "I-yes. I promise."_

_The red fire sunk into his skin, burning him and branding him with a lattice of pain for the shortest of moments. Then it was gone, and Draco stood alone in the corridor, his hand limp at his side._

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When at last Draco returned to consciousness, the Drawing Room, where he was being kept, was in uproar. He decided to keep still with his eyes shut, lest they realise he was awake and begin torturing him again: all the pain from before he'd lost consciousness had come back with such force, he'd nearly conked out again.

"This is ridiculous!" Granger was shouting furiously. "We're torturing him for information he doesn't have!"

"'Mione, he's saying he 'can't' tell us. He knows, he just won't tell us because he's still loyal to Vol-"

"Don't say the name! It's taboo, remember?!" Someone hissed.

"He's not fucking 'still loyal', Ronald!" It was the first time Draco had heard Granger swear. "You should have seen them! If you had suffered through the torture they put Draco through- though actually, your torture is worse! If he had information, Draco already would've cracked by now, but he doesn't, so leave him al-"

"Why do you always call him 'Draco'? He's Malfoy, and always will be. He's a fucking disgusting piece of shit."

"YOU'RE MISSING THE POINT!" Granger exploded. "HE DOESN'T HAVE INFORMATION! LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

"WHY?" Weasley hurled back, thumping his hand on the table Draco was resting his head on. "IS IT BECAUSE YOU LIKE HIM OR SOMETHING?" _Sooo childish._ "WANT TO PROTECT HIM?"

There was silence.

"Well," said Moody, walking over to the table and propping Draco up. "This is awkward."

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"For the last fucking time I can't tell you anything!" Draco yelled tiredly, rolling his head back in exasperation. "I just can't."

"So do you know about the safe houses, then?" Weasley asked.

"I can't say."

"Why the fuck _not_?!"

"Because." Draco sighed. "I can't say anything. Do you want me to die?" He added, mostly out of curiosity.

"Yes." Of course that was Weasel.

The other three shook their heads. "Not really." Moody said, his electric blue eye rolling wildly in its socket.

Draco decided to ignore Ron and spoke to the other three. "You don't want me to die? Then I can't tell you, even if I wanted to."

"Do you want to?" That was Granger.

"I..." He thought about it. "Yes. I hate that cold bastard. I wish I could say that I know or don't know about whether He knows about those damned safe houses, but I can't. I just can't."

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The Order decided to let Draco go, and he spent his time upstairs, alone in the music room, just staring out of the window in silence. They hadn't, however, decided to fix his wounds, so he'd had to do it himself, awkwardly holding his wand between his index and middle finger as he _Episkey_ed his thumbs back to their normal selves. He had groaned in agony at that one, but while he fixed the remaining cuts, he made not a sound. Bruises were an entirely different matter however: he couldn't fix those, so they haunted him whenever he caught his reflection in something, bright livid purple and black splotches of agony on nearly every inch of skin on his body.

A few days later, Ron caught Draco in a room alone.

"Malfoy."

Draco looked up irritably from the book he was reading, one half of his face looking like it had been drenched in purple ink: the bruises weren't even close to fading yet. "What?"

"I have a deal to make with you."

Draco was wary. "A _deal_?"

"Yeah." Ron leaned lazily against the doorframe.

"What kind of _deal_?" His eyes narrowed in suspicion, old Slytherin habits dying hard. He never trusted anyone.

"It goes like this." Ron stepped inside and shut the door with a snap. "You either stay away from Hermione and _leave_, or I make up a story about her being a spy. I would do the torturing, and I will make it ten times the pain of yours. She might even die." He smiled. "Not my fault."

Draco drew in a sharp breath. Even though she hadn't stood up for him, he still loved her. "That's a stupid deal." He said finally, meeting Ron's eyes with his own blazing. "That's entirely ridiculous! I'll just take her with me! No-one would believe your bullshit story about her being a Death Eater!"

"Ah," Ron tapped his long nose, and Draco struggled with himself not to lash out and break it. "But I can tell very good stories."

"Still, even if you were the best storyteller in the world, no-one would believe that Hermione- of all people!- was a Death Eater."

"I'm willing to accept that risk. Are you?"

"I guess I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Then we have an accord."

The two men shook hands.

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* * *

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_**Author's Note: **Anything that I've missed? I thiiink I've written everything I need to so far. Let me know if you think I need more of something :) (yes I know I need more Dramione. Its coming, don't worry ;D). Anyway, favourite and follow if you enjoyed, and please leave a review! They're really important and help me decide where I'm going to go with my story, because my reader's reactions are important to me :) Thanks again guys for reading!_

_~Chongy_


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